If Bullfrogs Had Wings
by Inthemadhouse
Summary: What do you mean Finn didn't come home last night?
1. Chapter 1

_A goodbye isn't painful unless you're never going to say hello again. ~Author Unknown  
_

Kurt POV

This wasn't going according to plan. None of it was, and I had no idea how to fix things. When it was all happening in my head, Dad and Carole fell for each other immediately, which had happened, then decided to move in together, which had also happened. Then Finn and I would be roommates, and he would see me as more then the weird little gay kid who he hung out with sometimes, and _we_ would be the ones falling madly in love. That was the part that wasn't happening.

In fact, it seemed to be the antithesis of happening. Instead of being happy about the move, Finn had flipped out; refusing to so much as look at the carefully chosen appetizers I had set out. Like it was my fault that his mother hadn't bothered to tell him that they were moving in until it was actually about to happen. Like any of this was my fault.

_Seems to me that all of this is your fault. You set up your parents, you convinced your father to seize the day and ask her to move in, and you were the first to let him know that you didn't mind sharing your basement with your wonderful new stepbrother. I see a lot of things that can be laid at your feet. _ The voice in the back of my head sounded disgusted with me.

Well, when she put it that way, I guessed maybe my motives hadn't been anywhere near as pure as I usually tried to tell myself that they were. But were they really that bad? All I wanted was a chance with Finn, and this was the only way I was going to get it.

Only everything was going wrong. Finn was looking at me like I was some sort of pervert, like he was afraid of me, and every time I tried to fix things, it just seemed to get worse.

_Honey, he _is_ afraid of you. You aren't flirting with him any more; you're scaring the shit out of him. _

It wasn't like that! I was just letting him know that he had options that weren't slutty cheaters or extremely loud mouthed divas. If what I was doing was bothering him, he could always tell me to stop. If he wasn't saying no, it was the same as saying yes, right?

_I don't want to move in with you. I don't want to share a room. Mom, I don't like this. Don't touch me! Seems to me that he's been saying no over and over, and you haven't been respecting that. No wonder he's upset. If some guy were treating you the same way you're treating him, you would be screaming 'rape' so loudly that they would hear you over in Canton. Kurt, he's afraid to be in his own bedroom, and you don't see anything wrong with what's going on?_

Shit, she was right. When it was laid out like that, when I went back over everything Finn had said and done over the past week or two, it was pretty clear that he had been saying 'no' as clearly as he could without being totally rude.

Fixing this meant letting Finn go, not trying to dig even deeper into trouble. Like it or not (and the answer, for me at least, was 'not' most of the time), he and I were going to be a family for now, and I needed to start thinking of him as well as myself. The tension between us was very nearly about to explode and I had the power to stop it before one of us said or did something that we couldn't take back.

_Talk to him. When you aren't being a jerk, he actually treats you like a pretty cool little brother. Try actually using the words 'I'm sorry' for once, and fix this. Otherwise it's going to be a very long two years until college._

That was, of course, provided that Dad and Carole stayed together that long. If they broke up soon, then it wouldn't matter what Finn thought and we could avoid this entire awkward conversation….

_Don't even think about it. You got yourself into this mess; now get yourself out of it._

I stood up resolutely, determined not to let Finn Hudson make a coward out of me. A quick stop in the bathroom confirmed that I was looking my best, because I refused to leave the basement looking anything less then perfect, and I started my Finn hunt, which was significantly less fun than it had been for the past few days.

My house really isn't that big, and there were a limited number of places for him to hide. First stop was the kitchen, where he could usually be found raiding the fridge. Nothing. Next was the living room, but the plasma was off and the computer was on screen saver mode. Odd. The only thing upstairs was my fathers bedroom, which was now my father and Carole's bedroom. The thought bothered me, but I guessed if I wanted Finn in the house, I had to put up with some other woman moving in on my mother's territory.

Still, it was too cold for him to be outside, and I would have heard it if someone pulled up in the driveway, so I crept up the stairs. Almost immediately, I heard two voices.

"Mom, _please_! I promise I'll be back later and I'll do anything you want but I have to get out of this house! I don't like it here." Finn wasn't whining in the slightest. If anything, he sounded close to tears.

"Finn, you aren't even giving this a chance. I know that you've gotten spoiled with it just being me and you, but I'm with Burt now and you need to get used to that. He's willing to step up and act like a second father to you. Besides, how many years did I have to listen to you whine for a brother, and now you have Kurt. See? You've gotten exactly what you wanted." She was obviously exasperated with him.

"But Kurt's…" He trailed off there, not willing to say…what exactly? _Kurt's flirting with me and it's freaking me out? Kurt's going to get in my bed one night and molest me? Kurt might actually take me shopping and get me some halfway decent clothes?_ He could have said any of those things and turned Carole against me, but, for some strange reason, he didn't. Funny, I wouldn't have hesitated if it had been me talking to my Dad. "Look, you're going out tonight, why can't I? I promise that I'll be home by 1. Please. Thing are actually getting kind of good with Puck and I again, and I don't want to ruin it. I'll have my cell phone and everything."

"Puck gets you into trouble." She was weakening, though; I could hear it in her voice. "Where are the two of you planning on going?"

"Just around. We'll bowl of Mr. Flannery can squeeze us in, otherwise I guess just for pizza. I promise I won't get into any trouble. Please?"

"Alright, fine. But if you aren't home by 1, or if you do let him talk you into doing something foolish, there will be no end to the trouble you will be in, Finnegan, got it?"

"Got it." The was a rustle of clothing and I knew he had jumped up to give her a hug. "Thank you, Mom, I love you."

"I love you, too." She got quiet for a minute. "Finn, are things really that bad here? You would tell me if something was really wrong, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course." I could hear the lie in his voice, and I knew that if I could, so could his mother. "It's just…I don't know, adjusting pains. I wasn't really ready to share a room and I'm not sleeping very good because of it. Do you know when Mr. Hummel is going to start getting that addition up?"

The hope in his voice hurt. Even though I guessed I understood why, it still bothered me to know that he couldn't wait to get away from me. Carole paused again. "I don't know. I think he wanted to be able to talk to you about it and see what you wanted before he did anything. And you can call him Burt, you know."

"I know. It's just that every time Kurt rolls over or something it wakes me up and makes me all nervous. It'll be cool though, I guess I'll get used to it." His voice was coming closer, and I bolted back down the stairs so as to not be caught eavesdropping. Luckily, I'm faster then he is, and by the time he got into what was now our shared room, I was laying on the bed, seemingly absorbed in a fashion magazine. "Hi, Finn."

"Hey." He drew back, his body tense and his eyes wary. "Uh, what are you reading?" I could tell that he was ready to flee at the slightest movement from me.

"Vogue. The French one, not he American one because the American one is literally months behind and how can they possibly expect anyone to keep up if they-" I remembered why I was down here and forced myself to be quiet. "Finn, can we talk?"

"Uh, ok." My words didn't seem to be calming him down. If anything, he seemed more nervous then before. "Look, Kurt, I think you're a really cool guy and everything, but stuff needs to change."

I nodded. "Yes, it does. They way I've been treating you is unfair, and I'm sorry."

He breathed out in an explosive rush. "Really?"

"Yeah. It was mean, and you have enough to deal with without me making everything worse. So, yeah, I'm sorry and I'll try and be more like a brother from now on."

His eyes met mine, and I could tell that he was still nervous, trying to figure out of I was being truthful or if this was some sort of trick to get him to let his guard down. "It's cool, I guess. Um, can you and I just sort of start over? You know, as brothers this time?" 

That was very nearly the last thing I wanted in the world, but I nodded anyway. After all, my ruining this for every one would be the absolute worst thing in the world, and if I had to give Finn up for everyone else's happiness, I could do that. Even if it would break my heart. I smiled weakly at him. "I would like that."

He gave me that smile that went straight to my heart, along with other parts of my body. "Me too. So, cool, we start over. Do you want to come bowling with me and Puck?"

Aw, that was a very sweet gesture. Even though a part of me jumped and tried to claim that I had just been asked on a date, the larger part knew that he was just being brotherly. I also knew that I was probably the biggest part of what he was trying to get away from. "No, you and Puck have fun."

"Ok." I couldn't help but notice how relieved he seemed. When he got back, I was going to have to do a lot of work to repair our relationship. "Well, how about we watch a movie when I get back?"

It was a testament to how pathetic I had become that my heart started pounding at the suggestion that he and I should spend some time alone together. "Sure, about what time to you think you'll be home?" I knew of course, but there was no way I was about to admit to eavesdropping.

"Uh, about 1ish I guess. Mr. Flannery will let us bowl for free, but we have to help him close the alley down after." He cocked his head. "Is that too late? Cause, we could do something tomorrow."

It _was_ late for me, considering that I needed at least 9 hours of sleep to maintain my complexion, but I was capable of recognizing the olive branch when it was extended. "That would be cool. I'll pick the movie."

"Great!" I heard a car in the driveway, the extra loud muffler telling me that Puck was here. Finn grabbed his wallet and jacket and gave me one last look. "You sure you don't want to go?"

"I'm sure. Have fun with Puck." I didn't get up, didn't make any moves towards him. Nothing that might give him an excuse to freak out.

"See you later, then." He bounded up the steps, suddenly looking like a man sprung from prison. I laid back on the bed and listened to the truck pull away. I thought I had done pretty well. I had managed to keep a happy face and not cry while I was letting go of the only man I had ever loved.

_Did you really? It seems to me that if you had actually loved the boy, you wouldn't have to make such an effort to change him. What's his favorite color? What's his favorite song? Do you have any idea what he wants to do with himself after high school? You like him because he's sweet to you, and he's the only person who's ever been that way to you, at least until Glee. _

No, I didn't know any of those things. Furthermore, I had made zero effort to find out. I wanted the idea of Finn, not the man himself. That thought did make the tears start, and I pressed my face into the pillow while I tried to control the sobs.

_Oh, it's not that bad. At least you realized the error of your ways before anything really bad happened. You have a second chance now, and you can learn all of those things about him. Now cry if you have to, but then get up and make things better._

Both of those things were alright with me. So cried for a while, until I was out of tears and my face was a blotched up, snot covered, mess. For the first time since I had set up this oh so brilliant plan, I was glad that Finn wasn't around to see me like this.

Dad came down to tell me that he and Carole were leaving for their date, but I pretended that I was sleeping. If he saw me right now, he would know that something was wrong, and I was not about to try and explain that I had set him up with the new love of his life just so I could look at her son without his clothes on. It made me sound a little…

_Sociopathic?_

The voice in my head was such a bitch. But sure, sociopathic pretty much fit the bill for that entire plan. But I was going to do better now. I had to. From now on, I was going to treat Finn like a brother and nothing more.

_I'll believe it when I see it._

Determined to prove her wrong, I sat up and pulled myself together. First order of business: a shower. I was repulsive and I refused to be seen by anyone looking like this. I didn't even want to look in the mirror.

While I was standing there in the shower, allowing my pores to open up in the steam, it suddenly occurred to me that I could give my fantasies about Finn one final ride. Or maybe that wasn't a good idea.

_Gee, you think? I'm pretty sure that masturbating to thoughts of your brand new stepbrother is not the best way to get over your crush on your brand new stepbrother. There are millions of attractive men in the world, think about any one of them. _

Alright, alright, I got it. I took a mental trip through my fantasy men, but nothing was doing it for me. Had I really done it to thoughts of Finn so often that nothing else was going to work? Sometimes I hated my life.

I gave up on the thought of finding something that might get me off when the water started getting cold. I washed off as quickly as I could and wrapped myself up in a robe and fluffy towel. As nice as it was to have Finn around sometimes, there were times when I appreciated having the bedroom all to myself. Now I could undress and not have to either worry about his staring or me doing something to embarrass myself.

My iPod was waiting for me on the desk, exactly where it was supposed to be. Even though I hadn't gone as far as to draw a line down the room to divide my space from his, Finn acted like I had and wouldn't go anywhere near my side of the room. Even if he was expressly invited, he didn't like it. I put the buds in my ears, humming happily to myself as Lady Gaga blasted out. Even though I had already performed my piece (which, by the way, had been awesome! Even if it _would_ have been better if we could have convinced the boys to let go of their homophobic ideas and join us), it was still fun to dance around and have fun.

If anyone in the family, including Finn, could have seen my doing this, they would have been surprised by how carefree I seemed. It wasn't like at school, when I had be restrained for my own safety. This was my basement, my place, and even if I was currently sharing it, Finn wasn't here right now, was he? Unfortunately.

It was nearly 10 by now, and it was looking likely that Dad and Carole would be spending the night in Akron, where they had gone to dinner and a play. Dad had told me that he would call while I was still lying in bed and sulking, but not to count on them coming home tonight.

When Dad had announced their date four days ago, I had been thrilled. An entire night alone with Finn, no adult supervision? Yes please. Now it was just a depressing reminded that even though Finn and I had plans, we certainly didn't have a date. And now, we would never have a date. Period. Game over. Finn was slipping through my fingers, and instead of squeezing tight, I was going to have to open my hand and let him go.

Finn wouldn't be home for another three hours, but I wandered up to the living room anyway. His taste in movies was not my taste in movies, and I figured I better watch something enjoyable before I was roped into Rambo or Die Hard or something else involving men with bigger biceps then brains.

After a brief debate, I put Footloose in and lost myself in a world where the biggest problem was not being allowed to dance. Though the homoeroticism between Ren and Willard could have been cut with a knife and all it served to do was make me hurt to have Finn even more.

_Knock it off. If you can't behave yourself around him, go to bed right now. He's completely on edge with you, and, if you ever want him to trust you again, you need to back off._

I got it already. Since I didn't trust Finn's ability to properly choose a movie, I preselected a few titles. Bourne Identity was good, since Matt Damon was beyond hot in it. Dogma was fine, since it was funny and it had the bonus of Matt Damon _and_ Ben Affleck. Little Miss Sunshine was good also, since it was hysterical and I didn't think Finn had seen it already. Now all I had to do was wait for Finn to come home.

1 o'clock came and went, and thee was no sign of Finn. I wanted to call, but I made myself sit tight. He had said '1ish' not 1 on the dot. Still, by 1:30, I was starting to get a little worried.

At 1:45, I gave in and called him, only to get his voicemail. I left a message asking him to call me. If he had changed his mind about watching a movie it was fine, but I needed to know that he was safe.

He didn't call back. I sat there on the couch, clutching the phone. If something had happened and Finn was hurt, I needed to know. On the other hand, this was Lima, Ohio. How much trouble could he possibly be in? It was much more likely that he and Puck had decided that they could have more fun somewhere else and he had ditched me. I mean, Finn does have a history of doing things like that.

I tried calling twice more and texted three times, each message getting progressively more exasperated. Finally I left him a huffy 'If you'd rather go whore yourself around with Puck its fine, but at least let me know so that I can cover for you with Dad and Carole.'. Still nothing.

By 2:45, I had given up entirely. Finn wasn't coming home and we weren't having movie time. I was trying not to be pissed, but it was hard. Still, I called the hospital, just to be sure, and was told that no one matching Finn's description had been brought in. Basically, he was avoiding me.

_Truth hurts. _I couldn't tell if the voice was smug or pitying.

By now I was beyond frustrated, and not in the mood to deal with Finn Hudson or his constant drama. _Fine, you know what? I don't care any more. I don't care if Finn never comes back. He's not mine, he'll never be mine, and it'll be nice to have the basement to myself again and not have to listen to him talk in his sleep._

_ Nice temper tantrum._

Great, now my thoughts were fighting with the voice in the back of my head. I threw all three movies on the coffee table, the clattering noise making me feel good. Now I understood why Finn liked kicking things so much when he was upset.

I considered locking the basement door so Finn would have to sleep on the couch when he finally drug his (probably drunk) ass home, but that wasn't a fair thing to do. I needed him to be able to get downstairs, so I could properly bitch him out tomorrow morning.

My bed was warm and inviting, and I tumbled happily into it. Today had been a rotten day all around and I was ready for it to be over. I had lost my chance with Finn and, even though he had accepted my apology, he didn't seem to even want a friendship any more. Other then him getting Rachel pregnant, I just didn't see how things could get any worse.

_He could bring her to fool around in your shared bedroom. _

_ Thank you voice, you have officially made this the worst day ever. _I curled up, trying not to ignore the fact that the basement felt oddly empty now. Finn tends to fall asleep early, long before I usually went to bed, and, even though it had only been a few days, I kind of missed the big lug.

_Get used to missing him, because he's being pretty clear that he doesn't want to be anywhere near you_.

I changed my iPod over to the soft songs I always used to calm down and help me fall asleep. I was so heartsick and worn out and just plain tired with life that I fell asleep quickly and slept deeply, nearly comatose until the next morning.

At least I was until I felt gentle hand shaking me awake. I squeezed my eyes shut, because I knew that it was Finn and I didn't want to hear his lame apologies for ditching me last night, or worse, his excited play by play of him groping Rachel.

_You do realize that when he tells you those things, he's trying to treat you like one of the guys, right? Granted, it's an awkward attempt, but at least he's trying, which is more then I can say for you._

"Kurt. Kurt, kiddo, wake up." The voice wasn't Finn's at all, it was my fathers. "Kurt, come on now."

I sighed and opened my eyes, glancing over at Finn's empty bed. "What's going on?" 

Dad wasn't smiling. "Kurt, where is your brother?" 

A cold feeling started between my shoulder blades. "What do you mean?"

"Not funny, kid. I don't care if Finn asked you to lie for him, if you know where he is; you need to tell me right now. Carole is getting hysterical."

"He and Puck went bowling. He didn't come back last night?" I sat up and checked over the bed across the room. It was unmade, like always, but there was still an abandoned T-shirt laying on it in the exactly same position it had been in when I fell asleep. Finn would have at least tossed it in the general direction of the hamper if he had been home.

Dad shook his head. "No. Finn never came home last night and neither did Puck. No one knows where they are."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Reviews on this story were mixed. I get that, because I'm not even sure I like this story. It's dark, it's depressing, it's not fun to write like 'The Name of the Game' is. But there's something oddly compelling about writing it, so I'm going to forge ahead and see where this leads me.

I forgot to add in the last chapter. This may be slash, it may not. I can not tell you how it will end, because I don't know, not yet.

_**Missing you isn't the problem; it's wondering if you'll ever come back that's killing me. Author Unknown**_

His words caused my eyes to pop open. "What do you mean you can't find either one of them? They aren't at Puck's?"

Dad's eyes were narrow when he studied me. "Kurt, if you know where he is, you need to tell me right now. Carole is very upset."

I shook my head. "I don't know. I thought he was coming back to watch a movie with me last night, but he never showed and I finally went to bed."

He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Why didn't you call us immediately when he didn't come home?"

My heart was still feeling raw from everything that had happened last night, and I felt tears prickling at the backs of my eyes. "I didn't want to get him in trouble."

He sighed and patted my shoulder. "It's not your fault. Finn and Puck probably just got a wild hair and are lying low right now because they know that their little asses are going to get kicked if they come home."

_Or maybe something happened to him. What if he's hurt? What if someone kidnapped him? What if he's dead? He could have been bleeding out in ditch somewhere, and there you were, throwing a tantrum in your nice warm living room_.

I shook my head in an attempt to dislodge the voice. Finn was fine, he had to be. "What can I do?"

"Start calling some of his friends. Carole's already tried the hospital, and we're calling the bowling alley as soon as it opens. They have to be somewhere; there just aren't that many places for them to hide." He squeezed my shoulder. "Don't worry, Kurt, he'll be home soon."

He sounded completely sure of himself, and I let his confidence ooze into me. Finn was probably nursing a hangover at one of his friend's houses and would be here in a few hours with some made-up apology for ditching me last night, which I would reluctantly accept, since my behavior lately had been a lot worse then his. "Ok, I'll call around."

_Good boy. Now start by calling Rachel, then Mike, then Matt. Remember, you're going by who he might go to, not who you would._

Luckily, I had all of the Glee club's numbers in my phone, and I was able to dial Rachel (who was filed under 'Diva Nag') quickly. She answered on the third ring. "What is it, Kurt, I'm right in the middle of my daily vocal routines."

Under any other circumstances, I would have said something so scathing that she would never forget it, but, for once, I let it go. "Is Finn there? He never came home last night and we're getting worried."

"Kurt, I am no longer dating Finn, thus I have no idea where he might be spending his nights. I'm with Jesse now, even though none of you want to accept it."

That was it. "None of us want to accept it, because you're dating the enemy! He's going to end up screwing us over and going back to Vocal Adrenalin after he does it. I can't imagine that he can look past your appalling fashion sense long enough to be turned off by your personality, which is beyond grating, so he must have another motive for dating you."

The past year has given Rachel a little bite, and she snapped right back. "Finn doesn't mind my personality or my fashion sense."

Ouch, that one stung. But Finn was my brother now, and I was over him. Completely, totally, absolutely over him. Ok, not over him but getting there. Ok, not getting there but trying. That counted for something, right? "Maybe he's blinded by your disgustingly short skirts. Anyway, let me know if you see him because his mother is upset."

"I don't anticipate seeing him, since I have a date with Jesse, but on the off chance, sure." She hung up before I could say anything else.

That was one of the most irritating things about Rachel. When she wanted Finn, she could focus on nothing else, but when she was done with him, he might as well have been invisible. It never failed to amaze me that Finn could find girls that treated him like absolute shit, but wouldn't even look at me, who would have worshiped him.

_Or treated him like a creepy stalker._

I chose to ignore that and dialed first Mike, then Matt. Neither one had seen Finn, or Puck for that matter. They agreed to call the rest of the football team and anyone else they could think of.

Out of pure desperation, I finally tried Santana. As it turned out, she had been expecting Puck to stop by after he and Finn went bowling, and he hadn't shown up at her place as planned. If I followed her ranting correctly, though, that wasn't exactly an uncommon occurrence. Long story short, she was never putting out for Puck again, no matter how good he was, and when I found Finn, I could tell him that she was willing to give him a second chance because apparently Finn wasn't that good at it, but he was _hung_, and that meant she was more then willing to give him some lessons.

I disconnected the call after that disappointed and more then a little turned on. I wouldn't mind giving Finn some lessons…

_Stop it. You're getting over Finn, not thinking about giving him sex lessons. Now call someone else._

Only there was no one else to call. Finn's social circle was very small these days, and I had tried everyone I could think of. Puck had other friends, but I was going to have to rely on Matt and Mike to sort that out. I padded up the stairs without bothering to dress first. Normally I would have died before leaving the basement in my pajamas and before I had even washed my face, but nothing about this day had been normal so far, and I was afraid that it was only going to get worse.

"We need to call the police. Something's wrong, Finn wouldn't just take off like this." Carole had tears streaming down her face, while Dad kneaded at her shoulder. I hung back in the doorway, too ashamed to look at her right now. I should have called them last night, and maybe we would have found Finn by now.

Dad looked at me over the top of Carole's head. "No one's seen them."

If it had just been Puck missing, I wouldn't have been bothered. He disappeared fairly regularly no one seemed to worry about him or be surprised. Then he would show back up, cocky as ever and looking none worse for wear. But this was the first time he had taken Finn with him.

"Then we call the police. If he's just hiding out, maybe it will put the fear of God into him." Dad didn't sound angry any more, and that was what scared me the most. He was worried about Finn, and even thought I felt the old jealousy in the back of my mind, his worry made mine increase tenfold.

Carole was already dialing the phone. "Yes. My son is missing." Her voice trembled, but didn't break. She listened for a minute, fingers pressed to her lips. "He's 16." Another pause. "About 12 hours." A third pause and her eyes narrowed. "No I don't think I should wait a little longer to call. He's 16, which is still a child and he's never done anything like this before. Something happened to him. I've already tried all of his friends and the hospital. Nobody's seen him since yesterday evening. Yes, I would appreciate that."

She slammed the phone down and glared at it. "They're sending someone out. They think I'm a hysterical mother who can't cut the umbilical cord, but I know something's wrong. Finn doesn't lie to me, and he said he would be home at one."

I tried not to look guilty. Finn did lie to Carole, and I knew it. But little lies about grades and homework weren't the same as not coming home. Dad looked over at me. "Kurt, go get dressed. You were the last one to see Finn, and I'm sure they'll want to talk to you."

The thought of anyone but Carole and Dad seeing me looking less then perfect was enough to get me moving. From Carole's irritation on the phone, I guessed that it would be a while before anyone showed up to take a report so I didn't bother speeding through my routine.

It was sitting at the vanity mirror when Finn's side of the room caught my eye in the reflection. Despite my overwhelming desire to help out with his decorating, I had been respectful enough to let him have that side of the room to himself. There was a lot of stuff still in boxes, stuff he had intended to unpack this weekend. Feeling even more like a stalker then ever, I walked over and started opening his drawers. There was an envelope in his sock drawer, one that contained almost $117 dollars in cash. Now officially worried, I went over to his closet. The floor had exactly one pairs of sandals, one pair of dress shoes and some battered green Converses. His winter coat was hanging up, as was the leather jacket that had once belonged to his father.

I sat on the floor in front of his closet and took a quick inventory. Unlike Carole, I hadn't been 100% sure that Finn hadn't bolted. He was with Puck, who was well known for getting into trouble, and, to be honest, there was a reason he might be afraid to come home. If Carole had known what I had been putting Finn through the past few days (ok, weeks), she might believe it, too.

But all of his stuff was still here. Finn wasn't known for his planning skills, but even he wouldn't leave with no money, one pair of shoes, and only his light jacket. When he had left last night, he had planned on coming back.

Feeling more miserable then ever, I closed the door and retreated back to my side of the room. I couldn't go up there and tell Carole, I just couldn't. When the deputy got there, I would tell him, but I couldn't be the one to crush her like that.

Like a scared rabbit, I hid downstairs in the basement for almost three hours, even after I hear the police car pull up. I stayed there until my father called me, then slowly climbed the stairs. The deputy they had sent to do the interview was young, and looked like he was bored to death. "Kurt, is it?"

"Yes." I sat down in my mother's old rocking chair and faced him as bravely as I knew how.

"So, you and Finn are close?" He was holding a notebook, his pen poised in case I said something important.

I had already made up my mind that I wouldn't lie to him. "Yeah, sometimes."

"Sometimes? What does that mean?" Now there was a flicker of interesting in his eyes

"Finn and I are in Glee club together, and we played football earlier in the year. We were friends, but since my father started dating his mother, it's been kind of weird between us. Then they just moved in with us five days ago, and I don't think he was very happy about that." There, I had been honest and still hadn't made myself sound creepy.

_Kurt…you know what, don't bother telling him the other reason Finn was so unhappy. It doesn't matter now anyway_.

What did that mean? I was so confused that I missed the next question. "I'm sorry, what?" 

"I asked you to go over what happened last night, in your own words. As far as we know, you were the last person to see Finn."

"Well, he came downstairs, which is where our bedroom is, and he said that he was going to go bowling with Puck." It wasn't as easy to dodge now, and I made myself back up. "Wait, first he said that he wanted to talk about him and me, and we did that and then he said he'd be back around 1 to watch a movie with me, but he didn't come home."

"What specifically did he want to talk about involving him and you?" His face said that he knew there was more to the story then I was saying.

_Careful, Kurt, this is a man who makes his living by determining whether or not someone is lying to him._

I thought fast and pieced together something that wasn't quite a lie. "He knew that things had been strange between us, especially since we have to share a room, and he kind of wanted to fix things."

"Did he seem upset about anything in particular? School, girls? Boys?" He was watching me closely and I was sure that he knew I was gay, and was he was asking if Finn and I had had a lovers spat.

_Well, you aren't exactly subtle._

"No, I don't recall anything specific. I would guess just moving in things and parent things, but he didn't bring anything up. Just said he'd be back, and then he left."

"Did you actually see him get in the car with Noah?"

I was so nervous that, for a second, I couldn't remember who 'Noah' might be. Oh, Puck. "No, I was still downstairs. But I'm sure it was Puck who came to get him, because his muffler is bad and his car makes this really weird engine noise."

"Why didn't you call someone when Finn didn't show up like he had said he would?" He was probing now, knowing that I was holding something back.

_Because he was throwing a tantrum, that's why. _

"I don't know. I just….I thought maybe he had gotten back together with Rachel and he was spending the night there. I mean, an almost stepbrother doesn't rate as high as a girlfriend."

He glanced over at Dad and Carole, silently asking a question. I shook my head. "He's not there; we've already tried all of his friends. He's just gone and so is Puck."

A few quick scratches on the pad, leaving me certain that the next stop was the Puckerman house. "Is there anything else you guys can tell me?"

We all shook our heads, and he sighed. "Look, I'm going to be honest with you people. I think Finn is just fine, and he took off for a few days." Carole started to protest, and he held up a hand. "Here's the way the situation looks to me. We have a 16 year old boy, who's having some problems at home, going through a lot. Then he gets together with a friend, one he's gotten in trouble with before, and they both disappear. 10 bucks says that they're together in Canton or Columbus, and they'll be back in a few days, scared and sorry."

"He didn't take any of his stuff." I barely recognized my own voice. "All of his coats, his shoes, there's even $100 in his dresser. If he was planning on running away, why would he do it without any money? Besides, he said I could come with him if I wanted."

That threw him for a second. "It's entirely possible that none of this was planned. You know how it goes. Finn is upset about everything that's going on, and he naturally tells his best friend about it. So Noah, who's apparently been having some troubles of his own at home, tells him that if they run away for a few days, it will make everyone appreciate them more. I'm sure they never considered how terrified you would be."

He was making a certain amount of sense. Actually, I could almost see those exact words coming out of Puck's mouth. "So, you think he's alright?"

"95% of the time, they're back within five days whether we interfere or not, just long enough to find out that life can be pretty rough, and that maybe things aren't so bad at home after all. I'll put an APB out on Noah's truck, and hopefully we'll have him home by this time tomorrow."

That made me feel better. Finn was fine, and he would be home soon. Then I could make things up to him and we could be friend again. Everything would be fine now.

Except it didn't happen that way. We spent the rest of Saturday and all of Sunday close to the phone, but no one called. Instead of retreating down to the basement, I sat in the living room, watching the driveway for a battered red truck that never came. Even after Mercedes called and offered a shopping trip on her, I couldn't leave my post. So she came over and sat with us, making tea and bringing Carole tissues. She even made dinner for us, even though no one really wanted to eat.

"Kurt, Baby, march yourself downstairs and get cleaned up. You're gross right now, and I can't stand seeing you this way." I must have looked panicked, because she made a shooing gesture at me. "I'll be here when you get out, just go."

I couldn't summon any enthusiasm for my normal routines, so I just cleaned up (she was right, I was kind of gross after spending most of yesterday and all of today in the same pair of pajamas) and got out, changing into an old T-shirt that I had swiped from Finn at Sectionals. He hadn't been as wary of me then as he was now, and it had been easy to pretend that I had forgotten something to sleep in.

True to her word, Mercedes was waiting on the couch. She held out her arms and I cuddled up as closely as I could. She kissed the top of my head. "Burt took Carole upstairs to go lie down."

I pressed closer. "Do you think he's alright? I mean, Puck can probably take care of himself, but Finn can't."

Her silence was all the answer I needed. "I think that wherever he is, Finn is probably wishing he was home right now." The words were carefully chosen and made my heart plummet. We sat there in silence while it got darker and darker outside. "Do you want to ride with me tomorrow?"

"No, I think I'll be ok. I need the car, in case Finn comes home. If that happens, I'll probably ditch out early to be with him. You know, bitch him out big time for scaring me and, unless I miss my guess, making me break out from stress." I didn't say what I was really thinking, which was letting her give me a ride would be like setting a precedent and admitting that things had changed, and that they might stay changed for a very long time. Maybe even forever.

"Ok. Do you want me to help you with your homework?"

Honestly, I hadn't even thought about homework. I shrugged tiredly and she loosened her grip. "How about I take your assignments and just copy my work onto them?" At my weak nod, she smiled. "Ok, now bed for you. I'll meet you by your car tomorrow morning."

It was strange how big and empty my room suddenly felt. Two nights ago, I had been swearing that I didn't care if Finn never came back, but now I wanted nothing more then to hear him tossing around the bed across the room, muttering nonsensical things to himself. I would have even put up with him sitting up as I went down the stairs and doing that half-awake skittish thing where he would press back against the wall and stare at me like I was about to hurt him before letting his eyes fall closed again.

But there was no one there, no sleep talk or soft breaths to comfort me and help me fall asleep. Just the achingly quiet room, which had never bothered me before. I tried lying on my left side, but then I could see Finn's empty bed. So I tried my back, then my right side, but that didn't work either. I just wanted Finn home, and I promised myself that I would treat him better, that I would leave him alone completely if that was what he wanted, just as long as I knew he was alright.

_And if bullfrogs had wings, they wouldn't smack their asses on the ground, now would they?_

What did that mean? Before I could even attempt to vocalize that thought, the voice spoke again, harsh and unforgiving. _Figure it out. _

I knew, of course, but I didn't want to admit it to myself. Even thinking the words made me feel like I was casting some sort of spell, one that would ensure that Finn would stay lost forever, but I couldn't stop myself. It was impossible for a bullfrog to wish itself wings, just like it was impossible for me to wish Finn home. He just needed to do it on his own. I pressed my face into the pillow, counting my own breaths until I finally fell asleep.

By the time I woke up the next morning, Finn was still missing. Carole had made me a breakfast that would have fed the entire football team and probably contained more calories then I needed for an entire week. Eggs, bacon, French toast, all the things that Finn ate regularly and I avoided like the plague. But it was important to her that she do something, even if it was only feed me, anything that might make this day seem more normal.

I had to remember that as scared and lost as I was, Carole had it much worse. Finn was her only child, and she loved him, but he was more then that, too. He was the one link she had back to her first husband, and that was something that no one else would be able to touch. So I forced down as much of it as I could, even though it was sitting like a rock in my stomach. If Finn really had run off for a few days, I was going to strangle him with one of my designer scarves.

By the time I got to school, I was downright nauseous from a combination of nerves, too much food, and (if I was being totally honest) the fact that my clothing was a little tight this morning. But it looked good, and that was paramount. Mercedes met me at the door. "Is he home?"

I shook my head. "No. Nothing."

It only got worse as the day wore on. Up until now, no one but the Glee club and a few of the football players had known that anything was wrong, but Figgins made an announcement over the loudspeaker that anyone who heard from either Puck or Finn was to contact the police immediately and our cover was blown. Every time I turned around, I was surrounded by people asking me about Finn, asking questions that I couldn't possibly answer.

I would have traded all of those nosy questions for what happened in the hallway during 4th period, though. I had asked to be excused to the bathroom, less because I had to go, and more because I needed a chance to regroup in private, not to mention check my hair. I had barely left the classroom when I felt someone grab me and drag me into a stall, their hand clamped tightly over my mouth.

I spun as best as I could, and found myself face to face with my worst nightmare. David Karofsky was staring me in the face, his piggy eyes inches from my own. "What did you do, you fag?" 

Scared, but determined not to let him see it, I squared my shoulders. "I'm sure I've done a great deal more then you have, what are you inquiring about specifically?"

The language threw him for a minute, and his grip loosened. I lunged for the door, only to find I couldn't open it. Something, or, far more likely, _someone,_ was blocking it from the outside. Sure enough, I could see a pair of legs underneath the door.

While I struggled, Karofsky recovered. "I mean, Finn, you fucking homo. Everyone knows that he's living with you now. So you must have done something to scare him off. What did you do, fucking get in his bed one night? I know you would get off on that."

That stung. If I was being honest with myself, it mostly stung because I was afraid that it might be true. Had my (admittedly, over the top) flirting with Finn scared him to the point where he felt like he had no choice but to take off? I hadn't been that bad, had I?

_Do you want the honest answer to that?_

Whatever my internal debate might be, I had that sense not to give Karofsky any indication of it. "Yes, David, because homosexuality is contagious, and cohabitating caused him to be infected with a singular yearning for his own gender." I hoped that if I kept using big words, he would give me an opening to escape.

Unfortunately, it didn't work. Karofsky just loomed over me, his fist starting to come up. I flinched despite myself, but the blow never landed. Instead the door of the mens room flew open and my savior revealed all six feet of herself. "What is going on in here? You better move your asses you pair of mouth breathing paramecium"

I wouldn't have thought that anyone would be brave enough to stand up to Sue Sylvester, but I had forgotten how brave stupidity could make someone. Karofsky shot her an unimpressed look. "Look bitch, this is the boy's bathroom. Unless you have a dick in that tracksuit, get the hell out."

My gasp echoed the one coming from outside the bathroom door. Azimio (and I was almost certain it was him), decided that discretion was the better part of valor and took of like a beaten dog. I used his absence to squirm out of Karofsky's grip and bust the door open.

If I had thought Sue was pissed before, it was nothing compared to what she looked like when she found out that it was one of her newest Cheerio's being bullied. Before it had been about making Karofsky and Azimio suffer. Now it was personal.

Her lip gave a quick curl and she pointed at the door. "Lady Face, march yourself back to class. I can't have one of my Cheerio's flunking off of the team. Blackmailing Figgins will only go so far. And you!" Her finger went to Karofsky. "When I'm done with you, you won't even be able to get a job at the creepiest low rent hotel in this entire pathetic town. Actually, by the time I'm done with you, you'll be lucky it you aren't pissing in a catheter bag for the rest of your life." She advanced further, though not without pointing at the door again, making it clear that I was to leave.

Despite the fact that she had come to my rescue, I had a healthy amount of fear of Sue Sylvester, enough that I was scrambling to leave. Not to mention I didn't want to be within striking distance when she finally let Karofsky go, pissing in a catheter bag or not.

I had barely made it back to class when one of the secretaries appeared, leaning over to talk to Brady. Something about the way they kept glancing over at me made my stomach churn. This was about Finn, I knew it. Mr. Addy nodded and cleared his throat. "Kurt? Your father is here to dismiss you early. Please take all of your things."

Everyone was staring and I gathered my things together. Maybe it was because they knew it was about Finn, too, or maybe it was because my hands were shaking so badly that I was dropping things all over the place. I had never let them get to me like this before, and, like typical high school piranhas, they sensed and impending breakdown.

Matt stood without bothering to ask for permission (not that he usually did, Matt never talked without a damn good reason) and helped me get my stuff into my messenger bag. He still didn't say anything, but his eyes darted nervously and I knew that he was aware the situation.

The school hallway had never looked so long as I mechanically moved towards the office. With each step, I whispered softly to myself. "Finn's ok and he's home. Finn's ok, and he's home, Finn's ok, and he's home. Finn's ok, Finn's ok, Finn's ok."

Dad was waiting in the office. His face wasn't nervous, but he was crushing his baseball cap in his hands, which told me immediately that Finn wasn't home, or if he was home, he wasn't ok. "Dad?" My voice cracked embarrassingly.

He nodded at me. "Kurt, let's go."

I started to say something and he cut me off. "We'll talk about it in the car, ok?"

"Ok." I kept as close to his side as possible, not wanting him out of my sight. Before Carole and Finn, I really hadn't cared that much, but now that I had some competition, I needed to remind him that he had a son, and that I was more important to him then they were.

_I'm pretty sure he knows that, Kurt. _

Rationally, I knew that. Dad had said it over and over and over, and made it as clear as possible without a tacky neon sign, but I couldn't help but feel like I had screwed things up by setting him up with Carole in the first place. If I had kept hormones under control, it would still just be me and him, and things would be perfect, just like they had been before.

_You mean the two of you would go back to being strangers in the same house. Face it, everything good that's happened between you and your father recently has been directly or indirectly because of Finn Hudson. You came out to your father after he got you on the football team. You and your father spend more time together because he pushes you to do it. By the way, nice way of repaying him for that, with your tantrums and your sexual harassment. Yes, it was sexual harassment despite what you try and tell yourself._

I knew that, too. When I had been doing it, it had seemed like harmless flirting, but now that I had taken a step back and looked again, I could see it for what it really was. "I know." The words were softly whispered to myself.

"What?" Dad had gotten into his side of the truck, but was just sitting there, the key still dangling from his hand.

"Nothing." I took a deep breath and tried to smile at him. "They found Finn, right? That's why we have to go home, because they found him and he's alright."

Dad put the key in the ignition. "No, they haven't found Finn. They found Puck's truck, and…." He blinked rapidly for a minute, seeming to choke back tears. "There was…there was a body inside. They think it's Puck, but we won't know for sure until they compare the dental records."

Bile rose in the back of my throat, but I forced it down. I had to be tough here, because if I fell apart now, I wasn't going to make it through this. "They couldn't just look and tell? I mean, they don't look that much alike."

He wouldn't look at me. "That apparently wasn't possible. We should know very quickly, but I didn't want you to hear this from someone else. Now, do you want to go home, or do you want to come to the coroner's office with Carole and I?" 

I didn't want to be anywhere near the body, no matter whose it was. But I didn't want to be at the house either. Honestly, just wanted him to tell me what to do, because none of the choices looked right. "Dad?" My voice choked and it took a few minutes before I could speak again. "Even if…even if it isn't Finn there, it's Puck and they disappeared together. Is Finn dead?" My mind was busy providing every possible scenario that would require dental records to identify a body.

"I don't know." He was focused on the road, but I could see the tears in the corners of his eyes. "I just…Kurt, I don't know."

Those words were more then enough answer.


	3. Chapter 3

_**If you have ever lost someone very important to you, then you already know how it feels, and if you haven't, you cannot possibly imagine it. - Lemony Snicket **_

The ride to the coroner's office was both eternal and not long enough. On the one hand, I wanted some answers, and me not being there wasn't going to change whether it was Finn or not. On the other, well…ignorance is bliss sometimes. Plus, and feel free to call me a coward, I didn't want to be around Carole when she got the news. I couldn't imagine how it would feel for her to look at me, knowing that she had had a son just like me 24 hours ago, and now he was gone.

_You _are_ a coward. Maybe she would appreciate having one of you around, even if it isn't Finn. After all, she's been acting like a pretty good second mother to you. Plus, asshole, it isn't about you right now. It's about Finn and Carole, mostly Carole. You can't do a thing to help Finn, whether he's dead or alive, but you can get off your high horse and comfort his mother._

Those were brave words, but when we actually pulled up, I found myself wanting to cling to the seat and refuse to leave the car. Dad gave me a long look. "Maybe I should take you home, Kurt; this isn't something you need to be around."

"No." It came out a mournful little whimper, nothing like I usually sounded. "Please, Dad, I don't want you to leave me."

He sighed. "This goes against my better judgment, but I can't be everywhere at once. Come on." He didn't protest when I slipped my hand into his for the walk. His grip was so tight that I felt it all up and down my arm, but I didn't care. Every step forward was a step closer to knowing whether or not I would ever see Finn again.

The receptionist recognized Dad, and let us past without comment. I kept slowing my pace, until Dad was almost dragging me along, but we made it there quickly. Carole sat quietly with a woman that I didn't recognize, but I could only guess was Mrs. Puckerman. They were sharing a box of tissues, both of them red eyes, but they were beyond tears. Dad went to Carole immediately, leaving me standing against the doorframe. Would she be angry with me? Even though she didn't know the extent of what had happened, she knew that I was making him nervous, because he had told her so the night he disappeared.

Her eyes met mine and she mutely held out her arms. I went to her, even though I hated being held, and didn't know how I could do anything to make things better for her. She kissed the top of my head. "It'll be ok, Kurt. No matter what happens, it'll be ok."

It wasn't ok, and it wouldn't be ok until we had Finn home safe, but I nodded dumbly. Instinct told me that I didn't need to, and probably shouldn't, say anything, that I should just accept it in silence. Dad came up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder, and we sat in silence, waiting for the door to open and someone to tell us if our world had come to an end or not..

There was a clock on the wall, and I watched the second hand tick in circles, first 10 of them, then 20, then 30. Finally, at 47 and a half, a woman in white coat and mask opened the door and signaled to the policeman that had been standing a silent sentry. The air grew thick and I wondered if I was going to puke. Hopefully not, since this shirt was new and it was the first time I had worn it.

_ I hardly think that that's the most important issue right now, Kurt._

No, but it was something I could control, considering that I couldn't do anything else right now. The cop returned with another officer and gestured to us all. "Puckerman family, please come with me, Hudson family with Officer Wilson."

Carole started to cry the minute we were put in the other room. "I can't even look Nancy in the face. How can I? Every second I sit there and pray that my little boy is safe, I'm praying that hers is dead."

That made it all hit home for me, and I felt dizzy. I didn't even like Puck, he was nasty to me most of the time, and I had yet to forgive him for all of those dumpster dips over the years, but that didn't mean that I wanted him dead. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Maybe the body wasn't either one of them. Even though it had been in Puck's truck and both boys were missing, but that was just it, they were _both _missing. Why kill one of them and take the other? Not to mention that 17 year old boys weren't exactly high on the list of potential kidnap victims. See, if there was only one body, it probably wasn't Finn or Puck, because they had been together and-

_Stop it. You're getting yourself hysterical and that doesn't benefit anyone. You have two missing teenage boys, and the body of a teenage boy found in the truck that belongs to one of them. Maybe it's Puck. Maybe someone kidnapped Finn for some reason, or Finn wandered away from the car in a daze after an accident and they'll find his body later, or maybe he even killed Puck himself. Or the body could be Finn's; any of those scenarios could fit him also. One of them is dead, period._

That voice was mean, but it made me sit up straight. I was too strong to seek refuge in denial. Still, I couldn't help but tense up when the police officer came back into the room. He took a deep breath and nodded at us. "The body found is not your son, Finn."

We all released a breath and I felt tears starting to run down my face. It was alright, Finn wasn't dead. He wasn't here, but at least he wasn't dead.

_That you know of. Chances are, they'll find his body next._

A huge evidence bag was held out to us. "Do any of these things belong to Finn?"

There was an all too familiar cell phone, as well as a wallet, and Finn's letterman jacket. "All of those things are his." I barely recognized my own voice.

"These were all found in the car." He checked a box on his clipboard.

On second glance, I could see that there was blood sprayed on the white parts of the jacket. Was that blood Finn's? I didn't want to ask though, because I was too afraid of what the answer might be.

"It's Noah that's dead, isn't it?" Carle was shaking her head. "Finn and Noah have been friends since they were just 5 years old. Finn wouldn't have left him behind, no matter what. Someone took my son." Her voice turned into a low moan. "Somebody took Finn." Then she fainted and thank Prada that Dad was able to catch her because I could barely keep on my feet myself.

_ Suck it up and get to a chair. _I obeyed the voice without conscious thought, thankful that the room was small and I was able to get there quickly. _Now put your head between your knees and take a deep breath. There you go._

Not only did my new position help with the dizziness, but it kept me out of the way while people rushed in to try and help Carole. I drew my knees to my chest and made myself as small as I possibly could, so no one would see me and insist that I leave the room.

A uniformed man, checked Carole's pulse, then ran one of those sticks under her nose to wake her up. The sharp tang of ammonia was clear even from where I was sitting. Her eyes opened and she sighed softly. "Is my baby still dead?"

Dad tried to reassure her that, no, Finn wasn't dead, Finn had never been dead. They just weren't sure where he was at the minute, but he was sure they would find him soon. Her dark eyes, which were so much like Finn's when he was sad, turned inward. "2 days ago, you all told me that he ran away. I kept telling you, no, that Finn wouldn't do that, but, oh, no, every one of you knew better. He's _my_ son, _my_ child and_ I_ know him. You don't! None of you do! He's…." She stopped, because there wasn't anything else her to day. Finn was what? The only man in her life for the past 15 years? Gone forever? About to walk in the door any minute, laughing about the great joke he and Puck had pulled? The last one was ridiculous, but I couldn't help but hope that it was true.

Luckily, the officer was able to calm her down. "Mrs. Hudson, I agree totally. That's why I need you to sit down with me so we can brainstorm where Finn might be. I'll need lists of his friends, teachers, coaches, any adult that he comes in regular contact with. Also, we'll be bringing dogs in to comb the area where the truck was found, so we'll need some clothing that has his scent on it. Pictures are great, especially a school one that clearly shows his face. We want to get him out there as quickly as possible, in hopes that someone will have seen him."

She immediately pulled out her purse (which, by the way, didn't match her coat) and opened a picture wallet. There, tucked in the place of pride and protected by plastic sheeting was Finn's school picture from last year. He was giving that sweet smile he had, not the full on grin that meant he was making trouble, or the nervous quirk of the lips I had been seeing lately, the gentle one that he usually reserved for his friends.

_He used to smile like that for you, too._

I ignored her, because I had noticed something more interesting. My own picture was opposite Finn's, and what had I been thinking with that shirt? It was horrible, and actually made me look chubby, which was quite the accomplishment. But it was there, which meant that Carole liked me, at least on some level, and wanted to show me off. It was an odd feeling, to know that someone besides my father was proud of me.

She eased the picture out with shaking fingers. "This is him. He's-"Her voice cracked, but she took a deep breath and soldiered on. "He's 6'3, and he has brown eyes and he has a scar on his back from an accident." There was a pause while she visibly steeled herself for the next questions. "Do you think someone really took Finn?" 

"It's starting to look that way, ma'am" He was looking down now, extremely uncomfortable. "But we won't know anything until the dogs finish combing the area."

What that actually meant was that the dogs were looking for Finn's body. Puck was dead, and chances were, Finn was too. But why? Granted, Puck was a moron and a jerk, but he had never done anything bad enough to deserve death. He was mostly talk, which I could appreciate, considering that I was the same way. Except I was alive and he was dead. "Was he murdered?"

I think that the adults in the room had forgotten I was there, because everybody jumped. The officer looked to Dad and Carole, who both nodded. The time for keeping secrets and attempting to shield me from the truth was over now, and we all knew it. "Yes, Noah was murdered."

"Did he suffer?" I was suddenly feeling incredibly protective towards Puck which was strange, because he was the one who needed no protection at all.

"No. From what the coroner has said, he died instantly from a single gunshot wound to the head. He probably never even saw it coming." His eyes held mine, and, try as I might, I couldn't see even a hint of a lie in them.

"Why kill one and not the other?" Dad was trying to hold himself together, but I knew that he loved Finn, too, and I could see the strain.

"I don't know. None of us have ever heard of a case like this one, which is why we're calling in for help from a larger city. It could be that whoever took Finn didn't feel capable of restraining two powerful teenage boys, but knew that the one they didn't take would go to the police, so they shot Noah, or it could be that Finn was the specific target and Noah just got in the way. I'm going to need more in depth interviews with each of you, to get the best picture possible of Finn. Sometimes one family member might notice things that other ones do not. I'm particularly interested in speaking to you, Kurt. Teenagers are more likely to be honest with a friend then with a parent."

I wasn't Finn's friend, not anymore, but I did spend way too much time watching him. Plus, we did technically share a room, even though it had only been a few days. "Ok." I didn't sound anywhere near as confident as I wanted to.

He softened. "Kurt, you are not a suspect, which means you don't have to do anything you don't want to, alright? Since you aren't, you can either talk to us alone, with a parent present, or with someone appointed by the courts to look out for you."

Both Dad and Carole started to say something, but I interrupted. "I want to go by myself." If I had to look at either one of them while I talked, I would break down and I was afraid that if I broke now, it would be the end of me.

"Kid, maybe-"

"Dad, I'm _fine! _You be with Carole, and I'll talk to this guy and then they'll find Finn and it'll all be alright. I think Finn has a sweatshirt in the back of your car, Dad, maybe the dogs can scent him off that. He wore it to practice a few weeks ago, so the rest of us sure can." There, I sounded a little more like my normally bitchy self. This was good, I could do this. No matter how broken my heart was right now, I could keep myself in control at least long enough to help Finn out.

"Ok, ok. Whatever you want if fine, Kurt." His hands were up, almost as if he were trying to pacify a rabid dog.

Even thought that was exactly what I had asked for, it didn't make me feel any better. Why was everything I wanted always fine with him? Joining Glee, joining football, quitting football, wearing a corset, it was all the same to him. _Whatever you want, Kurt, it's alright. I just want you to be happy. _Only sometimes it felt more like he was actually saying: _Whatever you want, Kurt, because I'm too tired to put up with your screaming and your fighting and your drama. I'm just too tired to deal with you right now._

Finn didn't get away with nearly as much as I did. If I wanted to go out and do something, Dad shrugged and said to be safe. Carole demanded to know where Finn was going, who he was going with, how long they would be there, and when she could expect him home. Plus he had to call and check in. Logically, I knew it was because Finn didn't tend to make the best choices, and I was more responsible, but my heart kept trying to insist that it was because Carole loved Finn more then Dad loved me.

_Yeah, because it worked out so well for Finn in the end. He did everything right, Carol did everything right, and you father did virtually nothing, and Finn's gone and you're still here. That, Kurt, is the definition of ironic. _

I knew what ironic meant, thank you very much. Still, every time that voice spoke up, it riled me to the point where I had the strength to keep going. I pushed myself out of the chair, ignoring that my legs were wobbly and almost asleep from where I had been holding on to them so tightly. I nodded at the police officer. "I'm ready to be interviewed."

He started to reach out, like he wanted to put his hand on my shoulder, but then he changed his mind and drew back. That was fine with me, great in fact, because I didn't want to be touched. I had a job to do, and I didn't want even the slightest hint of comfort from anyone. My tension was the only thing holding me together at the moment.

Once we made it to the interview room, I was offered something to eat or drink, but I turned both down. I was here to work and get Finn back, not snack.

_Keep telling yourself that. Keep pretending that anything you do right now is going to either help or hurt Finn. Poor baby, he's way beyond your help right now._

I hated that voice with all of my heart. Of course telling the police everything I knew would help Finn. 17 year old boys didn't just get snatched by strangers; they were taken by people that they knew. We just had to figure out who Finn might have pissed of, then we would know who had him. Besides, how could a voice in the back of my head know more then I did?

The deputy recorded me while I went over what had happened Friday night in as much detail as possible. I had done nothing but think about that night for the past few days, and every detail was clear in my mind. What Finn had been wearing, what he had said, every tiny expression on his face.

He let me ramble on; reminding me every time that I paused that even tiny details that seemed like nothing could end up being important. For my part, I answered his questions as best as I could. No, I had never actually seen Puck, just heard his truck. Yes, I was sure that Finn had specifically promised to come back to watch a movie. No, Finn had never been violent towards anyone that I knew of.

Then he asked the question that gave me pause. "Does Finn have access to a gun that you know of?"

"Finn wouldn't have shot Puck. They fight sometimes, but they're best friends. Finn would never, never hurt anyone like that." If Finn was going to hurt anyone in the past few weeks, he would have hurt me.

"No one is suggesting that Finn deliberately hurt Noah." _Liar_. That was exactly what he was suggesting. "It's possible that one or both of them were playing with the gun, and Noah was accidentally shot. Finn could have panicked and run. Now, does he have access to a gun?"

I looked down. "Dad has a shotgun for hunting. But he keeps it locked up all the time, and Finn's kind of afraid of it anyway. Dad said he was going to teach Finn about it later, maybe take him along when the season started." I could hear the hurt in my own voice, considering that Dad never offered to take me along.

_You puked as soon as he shot the deer the one time he did and then cried until he took you home. I think he may have gotten the idea from that that you didn't want to go hunting with him. You won't touch venison to this day, and every time he eats it, you remind him of how traumatizing that moment was for you._

Alright, I had Bambi issues. So sue me. I was so busy thinking that I missed the next question. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Did Finn ever talk about running away to you? Even if he seemed like he was joking."

"This is Lima, Ohio. Everyone talks about running away at some point. But, no, he wasn't serious. Finn's a mama's boy through and through. Besides, he has nowhere to go and he knows it."

"Most runaways have nowhere to go. They figure that they'll head to New York or California and everything will be great for them. Then, by the time they find out that that isn't true, it's too late."

None of this was helpful. "So, basically the situation we have here is you think that Finn someone snuck an unloaded gun out of a locked cabinet, ransacked the house to find the bullets, correctly loaded the gun, then, while playing with said gun, accidentally killed his best friend then took off. Does that scenario really make sense to you?"

"No. But neither does a random stranger shooting one 17 year old boy in the head, then kidnapping the other one, especially considering that Finn is 6'3 and well over 200lbs. He's not an obvious target."

""Finn's 16." Why that felt important to emphasize, I had no idea. "Maybe he knew the person." Why was I having to do this mans job for him?

"Maybe he did. Is there anyone in particular that Finn was having problems with? Classmates, teachers?"

Finn might be down on the popularity ladder these days, but he was generally likable and so easy going that he didn't have many enemies. "A few of the guys from the football team kind of pick on him."

"Pick on him how?"

"Shove him a little; toss slushies at him, that sort of thing. Nothing really violent."

"What are their names?"

"David Karofsky and, uh, Azimio, I don't guess I don't even know his first name. They're the ringleaders and the worst."

"Do you think they would resort to something like this?"

Did I? David Karofsky was the biggest asshole on the planet, especially to me, but I just couldn't see him actually shooting someone in the face. Especially not Puck, who had someone managed to retain his cool status even after joining Glee. If it had been me or Finn who had been killed…no, I honestly didn't think Karofsky would have the courage. "No. I think both of them are cowards at heart. They're bullies, but…shooting someone you know in the face, that's pretty violent for a 16 year old."

"Back when I worked in Chicago, I saw 16 year olds shooing other kids every day. I'll be bringing this Karfosky in later. Is there anyone else he was having problems with?"

That should have been my cue to tell him everything, that Finn was having problems within the family as well as out of it, but I couldn't. If I told him that, I would have to confess everything, and there was no way I was capable of admitting what I had done.

_ Even if it means saving Finn's life? _

That voice had told me just a little bit ago that nothing I could do would help Finn, and now it was changing its mind? Still, the implications stung and I took a deep breath. "At home."

"He was having problems at home? Because of moving in with you and your father, or because of something else?"

"Both, I guess." Tears welled up in my eyes and I was offered a tissue in silence. I dabbed quickly and started shredding it, just so I wouldn't have to look at him. "I've kind of had a crush on him, and I've been flirting with him. It was nothing bad, I swear, and I never, never would have done anything he didn't want me to, but he was really freaked out. He didn't say stop, though." The justification sounded kind of pathetic out loud.

"Ok." I could tell by his tone that he was totally out of his comfort zone, but he forged ahead. "So what you're telling me is that you were…not exactly harassing him, but making him a little nervous. Nervous enough that he might have tried to run?"

That wasn't something I could answer, because I didn't know. It was the same thing I had been asking myself ever since I woke up and found Finn gone. Was this all my fault? "I…I don't know."

He sighed. "It would be extremely unusually for a teenager to bolt due to some harmless flirting, especially since it doesn't look like Finn went to anyone for help, including his mother. It could have played into things, but as a direct cause? I doubt it. Plus, I don't see you as being able to overpower both of them, weapon or not. We will, of course, be confiscating your father's gun to run comparisons."

"Of course." I said it like I had any idea why. Finn watched CSI and Bones all the time, and I watched so I would have an excuse to be close to him, but I spend most of the episodes doing my nails or reading a fashion mag. Blood and gore kind of made me nauseous.

"Is that the only problem at home? Are there problems with his mother or your father?"

"No, they both love Finn. He's funny and he's sweet and he likes sports, which makes him just _great_ in their eyes." I could hear the resentment in my own voice, and it occurred to me that I wasn't helping my 'not a stalker or viable suspect' case.

Wisely, though, he didn't say anything to that effect. He just kept going, asking questions about Finn's friends, what he did most days, his sports schedule, all of the little things that made up an average teenagers day. For my part, I answered as best as I could. No, Finn didn't do drugs. He had an occasional beer with Puck, but I had never seen him actually drunk. He wasn't a confident driver, and I couldn't imagine him driving cross country to a major city, even if he did have access to a car, which he didn't.

By the end of the interview, I didn't feel like we were any further along then when we started. Finn was still missing, nothing I had said was terribly helpful, and I was starting to feel lightheaded again. "I guess that's it."

He pushed a card across the table. "If you think of anything else, please let me know."

I took it, even though I still had the card that I had been given last time. It wasn't that I didn't want to help, because I did, it was just that I was losing confidence in my ability to do so. I had been the last person to see Finn, except for Puck, and all I was sure about was what Finn had been wearing when he disappeared.

_That's more then anyone else can tell them. _

That was true. I spun the card in my hands and stared at the stainless steel table. "Can I go back to my Dad now?"

"Of course." He led me back out to the lobby where Dad sat alone, looking utterly lost. I climbed in the chair next to him. "Where's Carole?"

"Still being interviewed." He touched my leg gently. "Listen, Kurt, I know I was short with you the other morning, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

With everything that had happened since then, I had barely thought about him accusing me of covering for Finn on Saturday. "It's alright."

"No, we need to stick together right now. And not just you and me. You, me, and Carole, and Finn when he gets home, we need to act like a family right now. Because when Finn gets back, it's not going to make this thing over."

I had been so focused on us finding Finn, that I had never considered the aftermath. So I just stared into his face, wondering if I had the same purple bags beneath my own eyes and if I looked so very close to breaking down. His comment begged a question, but I was just too tired to ask.

Luckily, I didn't have to. He didn't meet my eyes when he spoke, just kept staring straight ahead. "Kurt, what's the best way to get someone to do what you want? Not the kindest, the thing that will get you the fastest response."

"Bribe?" It was what he tended to use with me.

"Fear. I've been thinking about it, about how someone would manage to kidnap a teenager as big as Finn. They wouldn't be able to overpower him, he's too strong. If they knocked him out, they would have to drag him, and he's too heavy. They have to find a way to make him move under his own power."

I could see where this was going, and an image of Finn's shocked, tearstained face forced itself into my brain. Dad shook his head again and I got the impression that he was talking to himself as much as he was talking to me. "So they shoot Puck right in front of him and tell him that if he doesn't get in the car with them, they'll shoot him, too. Finn wouldn't just go with a stranger; someone had to have forced him. That poor kid."

"But why?" My voice was soft. "What did Finn ever do to anyone?"

"There are a lot of sick people in the world, Kurt." I leaned into him, desperate to be close. I didn't want to think about what might be happening to Finn right now.

"So, what I'm trying to say is, even when Finn gets home, he's probably seen his best friend murdered, and it's going to take a long time for him to be back to normal. Or, he might never be the same way he was. That's why the rest of this family needs to stick together and be strong for Finn, because he's going to need us. Do you think you can be there for him?" 

Neither one of us was going to acknowledge the glaring fact that Finn might not be coming home at all. We would all just pretend that he was playing a distorted version of hide and seek, and was just around the corner, waiting for us to find him. "I can be there for Finn if he needs me. Carole, too."

Only I was pretty sure that Carole wasn't going to want me around. I wouldn't want me if I were in her place. Every time she looked at me, it would be a horrible reminder that, she too, should have a 16 year old boy who came home talking about what had happened in Glee that day.

"I knew that I could count on you, Kurt. You and me, we're a team." He grinned at me, and I forced myself to grin back.

But I didn't want to be on a team with him. We had been a team ever since my mother died, and it wasn't working any more. I wanted him to be the Dad and me to be the kid for once. Like Carole was with Finn. I was just tired of holding up half of our relationship. This was a new feeling for me, since most of the time I thought it was cool that Dad treated me like such an adult, and it was disconcerting. I didn't say that, though, because there were bigger things going on right now then me. "Yeah, Dad, we're a team."

"Great."

_Yeah. Great._


	4. Chapter 4

_**Adam's abduction was our private hell - but it was not an isolated incident. On any given day, any number of children are absent from their homes for diverse and numerous reasons.**__**  
**__**John Walsh**_**  
**

Pucks funeral was closed casket, which surprised no one. Mr. Shue had the Glee Club sing two songs. We started with Amazing Grace, then ended with a country song that Santana swore up and down had been Pucks favorite. Considering that the song was about a pair of exes getting together and screwing each others brains out, I believed her totally.

I hadn't wanted to attend at all, but some part of me felt like I owed it to Puck. Whether or not I actually like him, and most of the time I didn't, he was a member of the Glee Club and he really had backed off lately. Plus, everything that had happened between us seemed a little childish now.

In the end, I didn't back out, because Glee was down to 10 now, and we needed every voice. All I had to do was think of this as practice for all of the times in the future when I would need to put my personal feelings aside and get the job done. So I sang with everyone else, and I didn't cry, because I had cried myself out over the past few days. Finn was still MIA, and despite the Lima police putting out feelers to every station in the state, no one had seen him. I knew that the search for Finn Hudson was rapidly becoming the search for a body, even though no one wanted to admit it.

When we were finished, I didn't know whether I was supposed to stay with the group or go to Dad and Carole and that made my palms start sweating and everything seem too bright. I wasn't given to panic, and I prided myself in staying calm and collected through everything that had happened to me, but my nerves had been shot and I couldn't make any sort of decision.

Right before I could humiliate myself by doing something like getting sick or passing out, I felt a small hand in the middle of my back, steering me over to my family. It was too soft to be Mercedes, and too gentle to be Tina, so I was surprised when I turned my head and found myself face to face with one Quinn Fabray, cheater extraordinaire.

For the first time, I considered her and realized that she had lost as much as we had. That was Puck's child inside her, another baby that was going to grow up without a parent. She had been wavering about whether to give it up or try and raise it with him, and I wondered how this would sway her decision. I could see wanting to hang on to the last little piece of him, no matter how foolish that choice might be.

Beggers couldn't be choosers, though, and I was grateful when she delivered me to the right place before I could collapse on the pew. I was breathing hard and covered in cold sweat and under any other circumstances I would have sooner died then let anyone see me looking like this but right now I was just fighting to stay conscious. Dad squeezed my shoulder, rumpling my suit and Carole slipped and arm around me without ever taking her eyes off the coffin in the front of the temple. I wondered if she was thinking the same thing I was, if she was imagining Finn in that coffin with his face blown off.

There were Jewish hymns sang in Hebrew, and the Rabbi got up front and preached whatever the Jewish version of a sermon was and Carole was crying softly but I couldn't do anything to help her. I couldn't even help myself right now.

There was a wake afterwards, but I couldn't handle attending. Carole was going to support Mrs. Puckerman, leaving Dad torn between us yet again. She kept telling him to take me home, that she would be fine, but even I could read the lie in her voice. Mercedes stepped in before it could turn ugly, and told them both to go, that she would take me home and stay with me until they got home.

It would be pretty much the first time I had been away from them since Monday. Dad was insisting on taking me to school in the mornings, leaving Carole to pick me up after Glee. He had my car in the shop, claiming that there had been a recall for parts, but I'm not stupid and I knew there had been no such thing. He was just afraid to have me alone, afraid that I would disappear just like Finn had.

At least I could comfort myself with the fact that Jack the Ripper could show up to take me and Mercedes would be more then capable of backing him down. I was safe with her.

_I'm sure Finn thought he was safe with Puck, too._

That hurt to hear, because I knew that it was true. There was no reason for a 16 year old boy, out with a friend, to think for even one second that he wasn't perfectly safe in the small town he had lived in for his entire life. The thought made me want to be sick.

Mercedes drug me home and insisted on making me some soup, despite my claims that I wasn't hungry and all of the soups in the kitchen had an extremely high sodium content. Her chocolate eyes narrowed as she pointed at the basement door. "White boy, go march yourself downstairs and take a shower. You stink like sweat and you look terrible. I'll bring you down some soup, which you will eat despite the sodium, because I went through all the trouble of making it for you, then you're going to take a nap. Have you gotten any sleep since this started?"

There are very few people in this town capable of intimidating me, but Mercedes had no trouble at all. I numbly shook my head. Every little noise, and the basement had lots of them, made me jump awake, terror that someone was coming for me warring with the hope that the thumps I was hearing was Finn trying to sneak down the stairs. Of course it never was. Both Finn and his kidnappers had vanished into thin air.

The shower, once I forced myself into it, actually felt good on my tense muscles. Plus it had the added bonus of me being able to stand quietly and cry without Mercedes knowing it. I wasn't stupid and I knew how to use a computer. If a kidnapping victim wasn't found within the first 48 hours, their chances of being found alive, or really found at all, went down drastically. With every passing day, they went lower. Sure, some missing kids were found weeks or months or even years later, but those cases were in the tiny minority. It had been an entire week since Finn went missing. Soon it would be two weeks, then a month. Eventually, it would be a year and all hope would be gone.

The water started to run cold long before I ran out of tears. I rushed through a haphazard scrub job and stepped out, shivering in the cold bathroom. I had forgotten to turn on the heater, just like I had forgotten to do a lot of things lately. I redressed in a pair of pajamas and came out to find that Mercedes had already brought down a tray with not only soup but some crackers and two sandwiches. The sight of them turned my stomach. "I can't eat all of that."

"Half of it's for me. You need plenty of fuel to be this fabulous all the time. Plus, I knew you wouldn't want to eat alone." She pointed at the bed, and, as much as I hated the thought of getting crumbs in it and then having to sleep in the nasty bed, I wasn't foolish enough to tell Mercedes 'no'. I climbed under the comforter and gave her my most pitiful look. She set the tray down and climbed in next to me. "Fine, quit looking like I burned your wardrobe."

I turned on the television, which had been showing Rent nonstop for the past three days. Without Finn the basement was empty and quiet and I had too much pride to ask to sleep upstairs near Dad and Carole. I had begged my father for this basement two years ago, and I wasn't going to give him any excuse to put me back in my old bedroom, which was essentially a 7x7 square with no windows that he had turned into a home office. Finn would barely even fit in the room standing, much less be able to stretch out, which was why nobody had considered turning it back into a bedroom for him to use.

Mercedes set the tray in between us. "Eat or I'll shove it down your throat. You wouldn't want me to feel bad and fat because I'm eating and you aren't, right? It could be crushing for a girl's self-esteem."

She had more self-esteem then any ten girls I had ever met, but I started eating anyway. My stomach gave a warning lurch, but I forced it to settle back down an accept most of the bowl of soup and a few bites of the sandwich. I pushed the rest back. "I can't eat any more."

That earned me a look, but she backed off. "Alright, I'll let it go for now. Now why don't you lay down for a little bit, alright? You look like a raccoon with those circles."

I wanted to refute that, but I had seen myself in the mirror, and it was true. "Ok. Will you stay?"

"You know I will." She moved the trays and curled up next to me, so close that I could feel her heart beating. Her fingers stroked up and down my back, and she was humming softly, something I guessed was a lullaby. I wasn't sure, since I couldn't remember my mother ever singing to me, and my father certainly wasn't the type to sing at all, much less to a child.

Over the past few days, everyone had been so focused on Carole and everything she was going through. The police, the advocacy people who came to the house, Dad, even I was doing everything that I could to make life easier for her. Of course, my version of making it easier for her mostly involved keeping away from her so that I wouldn't remind her too much of Finn, but I was trying none the less. Still, hiding from Carole meant hiding from my father, so I was muddling through this on my own. It felt really nice to have someone take care of me right now, to know that someone else was willing to step up and take charge.

I slept for a long time, but not well. Finn appeared to me in my dreams, over and over and over. Sometimes we were at Glee practice, and he was laughing and bouncing around. Sometimes he was dead, still standing despite having half of his head blown off. Mostly, though, he just stood there, his jaw clenched and his body tense. It was the same way he had been looking at me the last days he had been home. It was a look that said he couldn't trust me. Somehow, that look was even worse then when he was dead. I forced myself to look at him each time, knowing even then that it was a dream and he couldn't possibly be happy and sad and dead and alive all at once. Every time our eyes met, I asked him over and over: _Where are you Finn?_

He didn't answer, of course. I didn't believe in an afterlife, nor did I believe in paranormal phenomena. Whether Finn was dead or alive, he wasn't about to appear in a halo of light, wings spouting from his back, or whisper exactly where he was being kept in my ear. If he was going to be found, it would be by the police due to hard work or blind luck. But still, it never hurt to have a little hope.

When I finally woke up completely, it was dark outside. Mercedes was still lying with me, but she had replaced Rent with Hairspray. I raised an eyebrow, and she shrugged. "Sorry, Babe, but I couldn't handle hearing Rent one more time. Plus, I just love a movie where the fat chick gets the hot guy."

"You're not fat, 'Cedes, you're sassy and beautiful." The words came out without me having to think about them, since I had said them so many times. It added a bit of normalcy that had been missing for the past few days. I blinked a few times and looked around. "What time is it?"

"Almost 8. You were pretty out of it for a while." She straightened up and kissed my forehead. "Your father and Carole got home a few hours ago, but I promised to stay with you so I hung around. My Mom wants me home, though. You might be the mayor of Gaytown, but she's still not down with the whole coed sleepover idea. I'll call you, ok?"

I missed her warmth already. But I could do this, I could suck it up. "Call me when you get home." She would be fine, but I couldn't stand the thought of not knowing where she was. Bad enough that I lost one friend and one kind of friend kind of enemy this week.

Fortunately, Mercedes had more grace then to draw attention to my paranoia. "I'll call as soon as I get there."

I wanted to just spend the rest of the night downstairs, but I remembered what Dad had said a few days ago about the three of us needing to stick together and be a family right now, so I went upstairs. Dad was nowhere to be found, but Carole was fussing with the TiVo. I tried to turn around, but either I made some noise, or she just had that mother's instinct, because she spun around and saw me. "Hi, Kurt."

"Hi." I had always sworn I would never look down to anyone, but Carole Hudson had the amazing ability to make me feel shy. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to set this thing up to TiVo Bones for Finn. He can watch the new episodes when he gets back. This thing is more complicated then the one at our house, though."

I wondered if she was in denial, or if she just truly believed that Finn would be home soon. "I can help you." I took the remote and carefully set it up so it would tape each new episode for him. "See, it will tell you if one of us forgets and tries to change the channel to something else."

"Thank you, Kurt; you're such a good boy." The gentle and heartfelt compliment made my eyes prick with tears, but I wouldn't let her see them. That was, until she slipped a hand beneath my chin and raised my face to hers. "How are you holding up? I know your father and I have kind of abandoned you to your own devices the past few days."

I wanted to look away, to say something rude and get away from her, but I was caught in her eyes the same way I was always caught in Finn's. "I…I'm alright. I know you two have more important things to worry about right now."

"I don't think that's true. We've done everything we can for Finn right now, it's up to the police to get him home, but I don't think we're doing everything for you. I'm sorry, Kurt, I really am."

Her gentle words were making the tears come closer to the surface, but I had lost the will to push her away. "It's alright. I've been trying to stay out of your way, anyway."

"Why would you do that? It's important for us to stick together right now, not break apart."

My chest heaved and the tears started leaking down my face. "I though that was what you wanted."

Her hand dropped away, and she wrapped me up in her arms. "Oh, Baby, no, why would you think that I wanted that? I love you, and I want you to be close to me."

"B-because I thought you were mad and me and you didn't want to see me because then you would think about F-Finn and be too s-sad." I was really starting to cry now, making my humiliation complete. I hadn't cried in front of anyone, not including my father, in years, and now this woman that I barely knew was breaking me down.

"That isn't true. I love Finn because he's Finn, and you because you're you and you should never feel like I want you gone. Alright?" She was rocking me gently now, and I reached around to hold her as tightly as I could. Dad seldom touched me at all, other then a quick pat on the shoulder, much less cuddled me, and I was determined to soak up the affection while I could.

She must have sensed the moment that I relaxed into her arms, because she guided me over to the couch and transferred me into her lap. I tried to protest, considering that I was too old and way too heavy for it, but she didn't let go and I quickly figured out that I didn't really want her to.

Neither one of us spoke for a long time; as I was crying too hard and she was too busy making soothing noises and rubbing my back. Mercedes had done the same thing earlier today, but somehow the feeling was all different. Mercedes touched me like someone who had lots of experience and knew all the right spots. Carole touched me like a mother who knew the right spots by instinct.

By the time I was done, I was dripping tears and my face was all splotched up and I was absolutely horrified that I didn't even care that she could see me like this. But a part of me did feel better, like I had expelled some of the tension and fear that I had been carrying around. I decided not to worry about it all for a minute, and pressed my face into her shoulder. It was beyond disgusting, bit I was afraid that if I got up right now, I would never get the chance to be close to her again.

Carole was kind enough not to mention that I was smearing snot all over her shirt. She just kept her arms around me and sighed softly. "Why do you think I would be mad at you?"

I hung my head. "Because Finn wanted me to go with him on Friday, and I said no. If I had gone with them, maybe things would have been different. Maybe he wouldn't be gone now." Even though I knew she had every right to be angry with me, I could help but want her to tell me that it wasn't my fault.

She understood that too. "Of course I'm not mad about that. You being there probably wouldn't have changed anything, except that we would be burying two kids today instead of one. And if I lost both you and Finn…" Her voice trailed off as she looked upwards for strength. "It would destroy me not to have either one of you."

She might not love me as much as she loved Finn, or maybe she didn't love me at all, but she at least liked me. She had to; she had just told me so. "I won't leave, I promise."

One hand ran gently through my hair. "I know you won't."

I let her hold me for a few minutes longer; until I was starting to fall asleep and I knew that I needed to get up. I slid forward and Carole released me without a word. I was almost out of the room when she spoke. "Kurt?"

I looked over, barely able to see her face in the dark room. "What?" I was wary and it was obvious in my voice.

"I know that I'm not your mother, and I'm not trying to replace her, but I do love you very much. If you need someone, you can come to me and I won't tell anyone. Or, if you want your father, you should never feel embarrassed to take him from me."

Did I love Carole? It was strange, but I was pretty sure that I did. I couldn't tell her that, though, it was too much, too soon. So I smiled in the dark, even though I knew she couldn't see it. "Thank you, Carole."

"You're welcome. You slept through dinner, but there are some leftovers in the fridge if you want them." She stood and rearranged the blankets on the couch.

I felt like I should be doing or saying something else, but there wasn't anything left to say. So I nodded weakly and went back downstairs to sit on my half of the room, staring over at what used to be mine, and now belonged to a boy who wasn't here any more.

A part of me felt like I should unpack some of Finn's stuff, just so I would have an excuse to do something, but I wasn't sure if it was ok for me to do that. Considering the speed that Finn had unpacked the first few boxes, it would take until he was 40 to get them all taken care of, even if he were to come home tomorrow. Not to mention I was a little afraid that there might be things in some of those boxes that would rot and start to stink in a few days. Maybe he would be happy to come home and find his half of the room already set up for him, comfortable and familiar after wherever he had been.

_Or maybe he'll freak out at the thought of you handling all of his stuff. Instead of presuming, and, remember, that's how you got into this situation with him in the first place, why don't you ask his mother what she thinks? Then the two of you will have something to do together, and Finn will have no excuse to freak out._

That was a good idea. It would be nice to have both sides of the room look lived in, so I could pretend, even for a few minutes, that Finn was there with me, even though I would know that he wasn't.

It was just a tiny thing, but at least I had a plan for tomorrow. It was the weekend for our once-a-month Saturday Glee Club rehearsal, but Mr. Shue had cancelled it for now. He didn't bring up the fact that, unless we could attract more members, it wasn't going to matter how many practices we had, since we would be too small to attend competitions otherwise, but we all knew it.

I would have been less disturbed about that if that didn't mean that the club would be cancelled. We didn't really stand a chance against Vocal Adrenalin anyway, especially now that Rachel was dating Jesse St. James, the new love of her life and the man who was probably going to end up destroying us.

_Yeah, because it's not like you know all about crushing on someone totally inappropriate. You're just jealous because it worked out for her but not for you. _

The only time that stupid voice was quiet was when I was asleep, so I got back into bed, even though I had only been awake for a few hours. The day had been emotionally exhausting, and getting plenty of sleep was not only good for the spirit, but would lead to fewer breakouts and few wrinkles down the line. Plus, it would have the added bonus of making this day end faster. That would be the best possible outcome right now.

Carole and I unpacked Finn's boxes the next day. Well, except the two that I had hidden in the back of my closet, the two that were clearly marked 'Keep Out!' and 'Private!' I was guessing that those boxes contained his stash of porn and other things that he didn't want Carole to see, and one brother protected the other from snooping parents. It was just what brothers did. See, I could treat Finn like a brother.

_ Sure, you're doing great. _The sarcasm seared through my brain.

At least I was trying. It had taken a little less then three hours to unpack and get everything in its proper place. It would have taken far less time if I had just done it myself, but Carole had insisted on telling me stories as we went, and I was gaining a new and rather different picture of one Finn Hudson as she spoke.

Once she was gone, I paced Finn's side of the room, lightly touching things and wondering about the boy that had done the same just a week ago. There were pictures of people I had never met, and probably never would. If I squinted at a few, I could see how the little girl in the Easter dress, holding the baby bunny might grow up to be Britney, or that the kid in the cast would eventually cut his hair into a Mohawk and start going by his last name only, but some of them were strangers to me. Who was that dark haired boy in the football uniform, the one with one arm around Finn in a brotherly gesture? Was that Whose wedding had Finn been photographed at, barefoot and grumpy looking, but forcing a smile for the camera? Had he just been tired, or had he hated the bride or groom? Those were all things that I should have known, but didn't.

_Because you didn't ask. I seem to recall the exact words coming out of your mouth: 'I'm going to put together a palette that expresses who you are, and who I want you to be.' _

That was true, I guessed. There hadn't been that many times that Finn and I actually hung out, just the pair of us. There had been the week and a half that he was practicing my kicking skills, and the time that I had helped him with the Fabrays (which by the way, had been done with the best of intentions. Had I known what an asshole her father was, I would have suggested not telling them until the baby was crowning, possibly later) and…I guessed that was it. Ever since our parents started dating, he spent most of our time together glaring balefully at first my father then me. No one had told him that I was the one who set them up, but Finn isn't as stupid as he can act, and he knew that something was up.

I should have been asking who Finn wanted to be, since I was starting to figure out that I had no idea. I sat on the edge of his freshly made bed, made with dark blue sheets that didn't match anything else in the room, but they were his so I let it go, and picked up the old stuffed dog that was next to the pillow. Funny, I had never seen it before. Carole claimed that its name was 'Kitty', but really, it just looked like an old brown dog that been held too much and washed to often. Still it gave me something to do with my hands, while I thought about things.

How much did I really know about Finn Hudson? I knew that he liked football better then basketball, he had told Dad that. He liked soft rock, especially anything by REO Speedwagon. He had an amazing talent for attracting women who treated him like crap, that much was obvious to anyone. He could be talked into doing things that were incredibly stupid. He cheated of Britney in math because he still got his numbers all mixed up. He talked in his sleep and he always got up at least once at night. He thought I looked good in red.

That was it. 2 years of crushing on him, 8 months of being in Glee with him, 3 months of being drug along on our parents dates, and 5 days of sharing a room, and the sum total of what I knew about Finn Hudson was…not much. This could have been a stranger's room.

It was past time for me to be doing my face routines, but they just didn't seem important right now. Instead I went back upstairs and put some milk in the microwave. There were posters on the table with Finn's picture, the same one that Carole had in her wallet. I read over one of them. Name: Finnegan 'Finn' Jacob Hudson. Birthdate: 5/5/94. Height: 6'3 Race: White. Then the small note on the bottom: Finn was kidnapped from Lima Ohio March 19, 2009. He was last seen wearing jeans and a red and white striped shirt. Finn is to be considered endangered and any sightings should be reported immediately.

None of that was surprising, but it still hurt to see my brothers face on one of those missing posters. I passed them every time I went to the mall, every time I went grocery shopping, every time I went to any sort of public place and I never looked twice. Was that what would happen to Finn? Someone who might be able to help him would just walk on by the poster without giving it a second glance? All of those kids in the posters, they were someone's kids, too, and someone was missing them as much as we missed Finn.

I hugged myself in the otherwise dark kitchen, the milk long since cooked and burned, but someone unable to care. The next time Mercedes and I went to the mall, we were looking at all of those posters until we knew every name. It would probably mean nothing, but there was always the possibility that I would see someone and know them. Then karma might come around and let someone find Finn from _his_ poster.

_Do you really believe that?_

No, not really. But I couldn't really do anything else and who knew? It couldn't hurt. And sometimes, not hurting and not making things worse was the very best you could do.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I know that you guys want to know about Finn, and I promise you will soon. This is Kurt's story more then Finn's, and the family that's left behind is suffering terribly with out their son, stepson, or crush/brother. Plus, it really took me a long time to decide whether or not I wanted Finn to be alive, dead, or never found at all. Yes, I've decided now. **

_**Sometimes only one person is missing, and the entire world seems depopulated. Alphonse de LaMartine **_

Finn turned 17 on May 5, but he wasn't present to celebrate. We all pretended that he would be, though, no matter how thin the charade was wearing. I bought him two presents, a nice shirt that would look great on him and a video game that had just come out and Artie swore that Finn would love. Dad bought him an entire new gaming system, the newest one there was, and Carole got him a handful of games, as well as a few things that she kept hidden from Dad and I. Apparently it was some sort of Hudson tradition, one that neither one of us questioned.

For dinner, she made Finn's favorite, and even bought a cake and ice cream for him. Dad had tried to question whether or not that was a good idea, but had been silenced by her glare of death, and her claim that they still didn't know where Finn was, and it was just as likely for him to show up on his birthday as any other day and how would he feel if he saw that no one had made any effort to celebrate his special day? It wasn't like she was going to make us sing or open presents if he wasn't there. We might have been living without a woman in the house for the past 8 years, but neither one of us was willing to risk the wrath of a lioness defending her only cub, so we backed down immediately.

Not that we weren't all incredibly worried about Carole. The longer Finn was missing, the clearer it became to Dad and I that he was never coming home. His picture had been distributed across the nation, newspapers had written articles about him, even Newsweek had published his picture and description as part of a larger article on teen abduction.

After that, calls had poured in. Finn had been seen in Colorado, in the company of a disturbed looking man. Someone was sure that they had seen Finn in Florida, holding the hand of a little girl. Finn was in Maine, Finn was in North Carolina, Finn was seen in Washington DC. Once or twice, he was even seen in Canada. Sometimes he was seen with a man, sometimes with a woman, sometimes with a man and woman. Occasionally someone thought they saw him with a group of teenagers, and, rarely, he was seen with a smaller child. Frequently he would be spotted on opposite ends of the country within a few hours of each other.

I, too, thought I saw Finn places. There would be a tall, dark haired man at the mall, or someone getting Sour Patch Kids at the movies, or sometimes even a voice or a laugh that sounded familiar and made me look twice. A few times I had even gone closer, like a man in a trance, thinking that he was here on purpose, waiting for me to recognize him and tell him how to get home. Once or twice I woke up in the middle of the night and could have sworn I saw Finn in the bed across the room, sleeping peacefully. Of course, Finn was no more in Lima then he was in any of the other places that people claimed to have seen him.

The sightings were all followed up on, and the more promising ones were checked out, but it was never really Finn. America has almost 300,000,000 people in it, and it was shockingly easy for one teenage boy to be hidden.

The calls from people who thought that they had seen Finn were still preferable to the ones from police departments around the country, the ones who had found a body and wanted to ID it. Those were never Finn either, but we all sat on pins and needles until the report came in. It had gotten to the point where Dad and I were trying to intercept all messages from the police, so we could hide those ones from Carole until we knew something for sure.

It didn't seem to be helping, though. Just yesterday, she had trapped Dad at dinner and demanded to know why he hadn't started work on the addition he had promised he was putting up. Finn and I needed some space apart from each other, and it was going to take some time to get up. Dad and I had exchanged worried looks, trying to figure out how to calm her down. Carole's temper was worn thin these days, and she frequently snapped at both of us. She was seeing a therapist, and he had put on an antidepressants (not that anyone told me that, I had snooped and read the labels of the bottles in their bathroom.), but her life was on hold until we had Finn back, one way or another.

After what felt like forever, Dad had nervously served himself some more potatoes and told her that he wanted to wait until Finn came back, so that he could have some input on how he wanted his room to look. Plus, he thought that maybe he and Finn and I could all work on the addition together, a sort of father and sons bonding experience. It had placated her for the moment, but she was headed for some sort of nervous breakdown, and there didn't seem to be anything we could do to stop it. I tried to spend extra time with her, even if it was just doing the dishes or having hot tea together, but between homework and Glee and Cheerios practice and hanging out with Mercedes and Tina, there just wasn't much time for us to do much. I was a poor substitute for who she wanted anyway, no matter what she kept telling me.

Regional's was on the 26th, three weeks to the day after Finn's birthday, but New Directions wouldn't be attending. Despite our best efforts, we hadn't managed to get anyone new, and even if Rachel attempted to bribe Jacob Ben Israel with her panties again, that still left us one member short. We forfeited the competition, and Glee was over.

Only it really wasn't. Sue Sylvester, in a rare moment of humanity, found me sitting mutely in the auditorium one day, staring at the stage that we should have been practicing on. "Lady Face, you should be out on that field, singing Celine Dion until the grass clippings make your throat swell closed. Why are you in here?" Her tone was as condescending as ever, but there was something in her face that told me it was safe to talk. 

"I miss Glee." And Finn, and the family I was just getting to know, and all of my friends, but there was no reason to tell her all that.

But I had forgotten that there was very little that Sue Sylvester didn't know, and that she was able to sense weakness and blood better then any piranha. "Does missing Glee have anything to do with missing that lumbering Philistine of a brother of yours?"

I stared at the dirty auditorium floor. "Maybe. It's just…we missed out on even getting a chance to compete this year, because we don't have enough members, and Finn was really looking forward to it. Even if he comes home, we won't get a chance to try, because Figgins is going to cancel the club."

She sat down next to me. "Do you honestly think that he's coming home? Come on, Lady Face, I thought you were more realistic then that."

The key to dealing with Sue Sylvester was not showing her any fear, or letting her know when her barbs hit home. "No. I don't think that Finn is coming home. I think that he's probably dead. If no one called for a ransom, there's no point in them keeping him alive." The words hurt to say, but they were true. "But, until we know for sure, it doesn't hurt to have hope, does it?"

For a long time, I didn't think that she was going to answer. "You know, I have a sister."

I wondered if the sister was as evil as she was. "You do?"

"I do. Two years older then me, if you can believe it. I did everything that she did, looked up to her like she hung the moon and all the stars. Then, one day, she was gone. Not like the Frankenteen is gone, and I could still go visit her, but she didn't live at home any more, and she never would again. I still did all of those things that we had done together, but it wasn't the same. Things are never the same after someone leaves, and sometimes it's better to just let them go rather then live with the afterimage. You aren't going to bring him back by performing in Glee without him. That club isn't a magic spell and Will Shuester is certainly no wizard, despite the lousy hair."

There was a certain amount of truth in what she was saying, but I wanted Glee to still be there for myself as much as I did for Finn. Saying that, though, would just invite ridicule, though. "I know."

She gave me a long, measured, look. "Then march yourself back out to that football field and start warbling. You will hold that high note for 40 seconds flat, while being flipped twice, or I will mutilate your genitals. If you think you're singing soprano now, you don't even want to know what you'll be capable of by the time I'm finished, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Coach Sylvester." Weird as it sounded, I actually didn't mind her ranting. At least she was the same, no matter that everyone else had changed, including me.

That should have been the end of it, but it wasn't. I was barely back from winning Nationals for the Cheerios when Mr. Shue called an emergency meeting of the soon-to-be-disbanded Glee Club at his apartment. It was an odd change, but he did promise pizza, which ensured that we would all be there. Since it was the day of Regional's, I assumed that he was trying to keep all of our minds off of the fact that we had been disqualified. Personally, I would have rather stayed at home and sulked, but I appreciated the gesture.

I finally had my car back, after I had pointed out that Dad had been holding on to it long enough that he could have replaced every moving part at least twice. I had new restrictions, though, and wasn't allowed to go anywhere alone in it. Normally that would have been grounds for a tantrum and some serious sulking, but I was doing my best to be invisible these days, so I accepted it quietly. There was no point in making waves, not when the entire Hudson/Hummel clan was already caught in a whirlpool.

Mercedes was already over, so she and I went to pick up Tina, then Matt. No one knew what was going on, but we all sensed the impending goodbye. Tina smiled sadly. "It's nice of him to get us dinner. I mean, it's not like he has much extra money or anything."

"He's probably using the last of the money allotted to the club, so it won't go back into the school's pool or to get the Cheerios facials or something." Mercedes was heartbroken, and, just like always, she tried to cover it with her attitude.

"Maybe it's good news. Shue sounded excited on the phone." Matt was in the very back, drumming out a rhythm on the window with his fingers.

"Maybe Rachel's idea of going to the paper helped." Tina didn't sound very hopeful.

Defeat was not in Rachel Berry's repertoire, not matter how insurmountable the odds seemed. I would sooner die then admit it, but I admired her strength and willingness to keep fighting. The past few months had just about burned the fight right out of me.

She had marched right up to Jacob Ben Israel two days ago, sexy panties in hand, and demanded that he write and article for the Glee Club, playing on the duel tragedy of losing two members to crime and then having the club they had worked so hard in be disbanded due to not having enough members for competition. His quick agreement was no doubt helped along by the fact that she hadn't worn a bra that day, but he claimed he would have something by the time the last paper of the year was published. "It's too soon."

By this time, we all knew the way to Mr. Shuster's apartment, and, even if our parents might wonder about the appropriateness of it all, we were always welcome there. He was almost always home, and, if you visited, you could always count on at least a sympathetic ear and a hot meal. I tried not to go over there too much, since both Dad and Carole needed me at home, but it was nice to be able to get away from the suffocating tension in the house sometimes. For Mr. Shue's sake, though I always tried to pretend that it wasn't about Finn, so he didn't feel compelled to talk about him. Finn was always Mr. Shue's favorite, and I knew that loosing him had been like losing his own son.

Mr. Shue's apartment was small, and usually had that drab, cold, bachelor look to it, but not today. Today there were streamers and (oh, god help us) glitter and even helium filled balloons floating around the tiny kitchen. The smell of hot pizza drifted through the air, and I actually found myself hungry. My appetite was kind of hit and miss these days, though it was usually better outside of the house. Even though Dad and Carole insisted on having dinner together as often as possible, everyone was so tense that it killed my appetite more often then not. I usually forced something down as quickly as possible, then made some excuse to go to my room. I had actually lost 10 lbs since Finn had vanished. Of course, because the world hates me, I found out that I really didn't look better after I lost weight, and I actually looked too skinny. Damn it all.

There was something else different, something that I couldn't quite put my finger on. I looked around the room, but there was nothing different. It wasn't until Mr. Shue looked up from cutting the pizza that I realized what it was. Mr. Shue was actually smiling. "Kurt, Mercedes, Matt, come get some pizza. There's Hawaiian, and Extra Cheese and Veggie and Pepperoni. Sodas and waters are in the fridge, keep away from the beer."

Like I would drink something so full of empty calories anyway. Not to mention even the thought of alcohol made me nauseous after April Rhodes and her getting me drunk.

_I'm pretty sure you got yourself drunk, Kurt. I mean, come on, one look at that outfit and you should have known what a moron she was. That was all your own fault, sweetie._

I was neither going to confirm nor deny that blasphemous statement, so I grabbed a piece of veggie pizza instead. "Water, please, Mercedes."

Mr. Shue waited until everyone was there and eating before holding up his hands. "Guys, guys, pay attention. Guys!" As always, the group ignored his first through third calls, before finally quieting on the fourth. "Ok, I have great news for all of you. Glee isn't cancelled!"

The room went silent, then exploded in a cacophony of cheers. Drinks were spilled, pizza hit the floor, people screamed and nobody cared about any of it. Mercedes was squeezing me so tightly that I could barely breathe, but I felt too frozen to move. Glee wasn't over? How?

Luckily, Rachel Berry, the famous trout mouth of McKinley High, recovered her voice first. "I knew it! I knew that appealing to Jacob Ben Israel's journalistic sense of fairness would cause justice to prevail! This was totally worth the sacrifice of my panties!"

Shuester stared. "Your panties?" He visibly shook himself. "No, it was Coach Sylvester. I don't know what got into her, possibly a brain tumor or a personality transplant, but she personally talked Figgins into giving the Glee Club another year."

"Damn." The room was so silent that Mercedes' quiet exhalation sounded like a shout.

I flashed back to the talk Coach Sylvester and I had had in the auditorium two weeks ago. Had she actually taken pity on me? 

_It's not the first time she's done that. Remember when she paid to have the wheelchair ramps put in at school? I think it all comes back to that sister she told you about. What was wrong with her that they sent her away? Was she in a wheelchair? Mentally handicapped? Violent?_

Rachel leaned back in her chair. "Do you think I can still get my panties back then?"

Quinn snorted. "He's had them for two days now. Do you really want them back?"

The girl paled. "Oh, God." Her fingers clutched the arms of the chair she was sitting in. "Oh, God."

I snickered a little into my hand, even though I found the thought as disgusting as she did. It was just nice to see Rachel Berry totally speechless for once.

Tina poked me from the other side. "Kurt, we won. Believe it or not, we actually won."

Only we hadn't. We had earned ourselves another year, but, come September, we would be in the same situation. Only ten members, and a severe lack of male voices. As much as I liked my own voice, I had to admit that it was more in line with the girls then the boys.

_Maybe Finn will come back. Of course, you don't believe that he's still alive, so you don't think he'll be back._

I felt my eyes narrow at the tone. _I thought you said that nothing I could do would help him. You're the one who told me that he was dead. _

_ No, I didn't. I told you that you couldn't do anything to help him, but that doesn't mean that no one can help him. Finn's still alive, for the time being at least._

If that voice was me, and unless I had developed a split personality, it was, then a part of me still believed that Finn was alive, despite the odds. Could he possibly be?

_Maybe. I don't read the future, Kurt; I just tell it like it is._

Shouting drew my attention back to the matter at hand. Santana had one hand on her hip. "What? I'm just being honest. This is a temporary reprieve guys. Puck's dead, Finn might as well be dead, and there's not one else who's going to join. The club will last until Sectionals, then have to withdraw again."

Not that I hadn't been having the exact same thoughts, but it surprised me that she would say it out loud. Just like usually happened, everyone started yelling then, and I couldn't pick anyone's voice out of the cacophony. If Finn had been here, he would have known how to make a goofy joke and settle everyone down, but none of the rest of us had that talent.

_ If Finn were here right now, you guys would be performing at Regional's, so it wouldn't be an issue._

"Hey." The voice was feminine and very soft, drowned out by the voices surrounding it. I only heard it because it was right behind my chair. "Guys?" I turned to see what the problem was, about the time Quinn lost her patience. "Listen you fucking assholes!"

Her sweet voice saying those filthy words brought everything to a screeching halt. At the same time, I felt something wet against my bare feet. Oh, dear Prada, please don't let that be-

"My water just broke."

Eww! I yanked my feet up and barely managed to refrain from shrieking like a woman seeing a mouse and jumping onto the chair. People immediately started dithering about, while we all tried to figure out how to get her to the hospital. Call me cold, but I was not having her deliver that baby in _my_ car.

In fairly short order, it was decided that Shuester, Mercedes and Quinn would ride in his car, and the rest of us would split into the remaining ones. I wasn't sure if I wanted to be stuck at the hospital for that long, but Dad and Carole were out tonight and I had promised not to be at the house alone. Dad was trying so hard to cheer her up and I knew that if they got home and found me there, it would ruin all of his efforts.

Mike and Matt were gathering up the pizza and sodas as quickly as they could, while Shuester scooped Quinn up into his arms, despite her protests that women all over the world delivered in empty fields and she would be fine, and carried her down the stairs.

Luckily, Lima's a tiny town, so it was only a 10 minute drive to the hospital. The receptionist raised a dry eyebrow at the food and sheer number of people and asked "so, has she had the baby already?" At our negative, she sighed. "Then why are we celebrating so soon?"

Mr. Shue tried to explain the situation while orderlies took both Quinn and Mercedes to the back. One person and one person only could be in the delivery room and Mercedes was more the equal to the task.

Tina leaned against me from the other side. "Do you think she'll keep her?"

"I don't know." Quinn had been very quiet lately about the baby and what she planned to do when it was born. For all of the fighting she and Puck had done about whether they should keep it or adopt it out, they never seemed to come to any sort of actual decision. Well, they did, but it changed so often that it was impossible to be sure what they wanted from day to day, or even hour to hour.

I didn't know whether Quinn would be a good mother, especially completely alone, but was not knowing how to raise a baby a reason to give it away? She could learn, and she would have us to help her. Could she really hold her baby in her arms and just give her away? Or maybe it all came back to Finn, who our entire family desperately wanted to be able to hold and couldn't, and I just couldn't conceive of someone willingly letting their child go, losing it like we had lost Finn.

_It's not the same and you know it. Quinn needs to decide what's best not only for the baby, but for herself, too. What good is it if the baby has someone who loves her, but who can't afford to put food on the table, or works three jobs to support them and never sees her own daughter? Look how hard Carole's had to struggle with Finn, and she has a good job and benefits from Finn's father's death._

"I don't think she will. Keep her, I mean. She never talks about her any more. Doesn't touch her stomach or talk about names or sing to her like she did in the beginning. She's already started to give her up."

I hadn't noticed, but there was truth in that statement. Quinn had gone from referring to the fetus as 'my baby', to 'the baby', to just 'her' over the past few weeks. The connection was gone, severed for her own self preservation. "Whatever she picks, I hope she's sure." There wouldn't be any second chances if she changed her mind.

The door opened and a blond woman walked in. She was unfamiliar, but a nervous prickle started up the base of my spine. She looked over us, her blue eyes reminding me of someone, and marched to the front desk. "Judith Fabray? My daughter Quinn is in labor."

Breaths were sucked in all over the room. So this was the woman who kicked her own teenaged daughter out of the house for being pregnant. Ok, so she hadn't actually done it, but she had stood there and let her bully of a husband do it, which was just as bad in my book. Quinn had bounced to Finn's, then Puck's, and her parents hadn't called once. I knew this for a fact, because I had heard Finn and Puck talking about it one night when I was pretending to be asleep.

The entire thing gave me chills, because I had had visions of my father doing the exact same thing to me when I told him that I was gay. Actually, my visions had involved not only not getting 15 minutes to pack, but him turning violent before shoving me out into the cold. I guess I've always been a bit of a drama king.

Judith must have felt my eyes on her, because her eyes met mine, surprising me with the amount of pain in them. Neither one of us spoke, because there was nothing for us to say to each other. We didn't know one another, and we would probably never see each other again.

Santana didn't have the same constraints. She was still itching for a fight, since she had been interrupted at Mr. Shue's apartment, and the perfect target was standing right in front of her. "Oh, look who's here! It's the woman who threw her daughter and granddaughter in the streets! It's a girl by the way, which I know must be disappointing for you since we all know that girls can't do much but look pretty and keep their legs together until you marry them off to some nice Christian man. But, hey, maybe you could get it right with this one. Can't have another slut shaming the Fabray name, now can we?"

"Santana!" Mr. Shue was doing his best to sound shocked, but he's a better singer then he is an actor, and I knew that it was all a show. He was as angry about Quinn's situation as the rest of us, and, even though politeness prevented him from saying these things himself, he wasn't going to be too terribly upset by Santana doing it.

"What? I'm just making sure I understand what's happening here." She turned to the receptionist, who had given up all pretense of not staring at the train wreck in the delivery room. "Can you be charged with child abandonment if you put your 16 year old daughter out in the street without any money or a place to go? Because we might need to call the police. Here, I have my cell in my purse."

Had it been anyone else, I would have thought that they were bluffing, but Santana can be fiercely protective of the people she loved, and I had no doubt that she would follow through with the threat.

Crocodile tears pooled in Judith's eyes. "You have no idea how hard that was for me. It was all her father's doing, I couldn't stop him. But I've left him now, and I want my baby girl and her baby girl home with me. I can make a life for us now."

"Really? You left him? Did you finally find out about him and his secretary? Because, let me tell you, Quinn and I have known about that since middle school."

_Wow, she really knows how to twist the dagger, now doesn't she? You could take a few lessons from her_.

I was pretty sure I didn't want lessons in how to be that nasty. I fully recognized that I could be bitchy on occasion, but downright cruel? Never.

_Really? Every time you get threatened, you start frantically manipulating everyone around you. You don't think that it was cruel to try and break Carole and your father up; just because you got your panties in a wad over the amount of attention he was paying to Finn? And speaking of being cruel to Finn…do I really need to go there?_

No, she didn't. When I was desperate and caught up in the moment, none of those things had seemed bad. But, standing back from them all, I wasn't too proud to admit that I had probably screwed up. Badly. I just wished that that stupid voice would quit bringing it up.

"Mrs. Fabray?" A young man in scrubs was standing in the doorway to labor and delivery. "Your daughter wants you."

Santana snorted, enraged that her target was escaping yet again. She threw herself down into one of then uncomfortable chairs and glared at the ceiling. "Really, Q? Are you going to break that easily? Coach Sylvester should have taught you better."

We all retreated into a moody silence then, picking at the pizzas that had long since gone cold and wasting our time snapping at each other just to have an excuse to hear someone else's voice. I called Dad and Carole, to let them know where I was, then settled down for the long wait.

I didn't have to stay, of course. But we were the Glee Club, and we stuck together, even more now then we did before Puck and Finn disappeared. Still, giving birth took forever.

Tina fell asleep against my side around 11, and I leaned into her, dozing myself until Mercedes shook me awake. "Come on, Kurt, don't you want to see her?"

Who? I was totally disoriented and had no idea what time it was, or why the lights in the basement had suddenly gotten so bright. "Huh?"

"The baby! Come on." I allowed her to pull me to my feet, remembering that we were here to see Drizzle. No matter what Quinn decided to call her, she would always be Drizzle to me.

Quinn looked like hell, but no one was really looking at her. We were all focused on the tiny, squalling, tomato colored, little person in her arms. It was…honestly, it was kind of ugly. It was squinty and rashy and making a noise that sounded like an enraged kitten more then an actual baby. "Wow, she's….little."

Quinn laughed a little and patted the side of the bed. "Do you want to hold her?"

Did I? What if it leaked fluids on my expensive blazer? Still, I sat numbly and put out my arms, allowing her to position the baby. "Make sure you support her little head, she can't hold it up on her own."

"Why does Kurt get to hold her first? We're your friends." Santana was staring at the baby with a mixture of awe and disgust.

"Kurt doesn't get to hold her first, Mercedes and Mom already did. Plus, I know that he can be gentle with very delicate things and I don't quite trust the rest of you."

I listened with half an ear, amazed by how light the baby was. My hairdryer weighed more. And was that…oh dear, I swear she had a tiny blond mohawk. How could something with a little bit of fuzz rather then hair have a mohawk already?

Quinn was still talking. "Guys, I would like you to meet Elizabeth Finley Fabray, who will soon be Elizabeth Finley Corcoran. Shelby said that I could pick her names, and Puck wanted to call her Beth. Then Finley for Finn."

Mrs. Fabray gasped. "Please, Quinnie, you don't have to give her up. We'll work something out together if you want to keep her."

The blond head shook. "I don't. I want to go back to school next year as a 16 year old girl, not a mother. Shelby said that she'll send pictures, and I can even see Beth when she's a little older. She gave a little girl up once, too, and she knows what it's like to miss something that was never really yours. I'm sure, Mom. If-" Her voice caught, but she forged ahead. "If Puck was still alive, I might feel differently, but he isn't and I want this baby to have a real chance in the world. I've already signed the papers and Shelby will pick her up when its time for her to be released. That's why I wanted all of you to meet her now, because there isn't going to be another chance. She'll only be ours until tomorrow."

Beth made a soft noise, and I offered her back to her…mother? Should I call Quinn the mom, even if we all knew that she wasn't? Quinn took her and cradled her until she was quiet, then passed her over to Tina. Cell phones were brought out and cameras flashed as we all tried to capture as many picture of the baby as we could. Everyone got a picture of themselves holding her, and there were plenty of just the baby.

We were all as quiet as possible, recognizing the moment for what it was, but eventually, the nurse shooed us out, claiming that both mother and baby needed their rest. I ended up with Mercedes, Tina, Santana and Britney in the car, and their chatter filled up the night. I dropped them off one by one, until it was just Mercedes and I in the car. I didn't want to ask, but I couldn't help it. "Was it gross? Watching her be born and all?"

She laughed. "Let's just say that you should be glad that you weren't there. If you weren't already gay, you would be by the time it was over. I mean, I'm pretty sure that I'm going to die a virgin if that's where sex gets you."

"Maybe the Abstinence Club or whatever it is that they call it should show a video of that instead. It would probably be more effective."

"Probably." We were in her driveway by then, so she gave me a quick kiss and opened the door. "It was pretty amazing, though. Call me when you get home."

"Of course." I called Dad to let him know that I was leaving and would be home in 15 minutes. I knew that if I wasn't there in 20, he would be looking for me. It was comforting and suffocating at the same time.

I made it home in 12 minutes flat. Carole was waiting for me at the door. "So, how are Mama and the baby?" I searched her face for any sign of sarcasm, considering that she had though that this baby was her grandchild for a few months, but I found none. She seemed genuinely concerned.

"Both good. Beth's so little, like a doll. Kind of red, though, and noisy." My nose wrinkled. "She smelled weird, too."

Carole laughed. "That's the way babies are. I gained 50lbs when I was pregnant with Finn, and when he came out, all I could think was: this is it? This is all of him? And he was a big baby, almost 11lbs. He was red, too, and blotchy. Nothing like you think your precious baby is going to look." She paused for a minute. "Beth? That's a pretty name."

I wondered if I should tell her the rest. "Elizabeth Finley."

Tears formed in her eyes. "How beautiful. You'll have to get her a present, Kurt. Maybe a little outfit, I'm sure you can find a way to match clothes for even an infant."

"She's not keeping her. The adoptive mother is going to take her right from the hospital." I held out my phone. "I took pictures, though, in case you and Dad wanted to see them."

"That's probably for the best. It's hard to raise a baby on your own, no matter what your age, and if she's not sure, it's better to let someone else have it." She flipped through the pictures. "She's a pretty little girl. It's been a long time since I saw one quite so new."

Then she straightened up. "Your father is already in bed, which is where we should both be going. It's late, and I have shopping to do tomorrow."

The only times she ever left the house any more was to go shopping or go to the police station. We never did anything fun or even something not fun as a family. We were broken, and there didn't seem to be anything we could do to fix it.

Saying that, though, was inviting trouble. "Ok. Goodnight Carole, I'll see you tomorrow." I never called her 'mom' and she never called me anything but my name. In the beginning she had, but now it was an unspoken agreement that, until Finn was home, she wouldn't let me get close enough to be her child, almost as if attaching to me was somehow betraying him. I got it, a part of me still felt like I was betraying my mother by being close to Carole herself. But still, I couldn't help but wish that she would call me 'sweetie' or 'honey', or 'baby', or even 'son'. Just something to remind her that I was here, and I needed her, too.

"Goodnight, Kurt."


	6. Chapter 6

_**They say when you are **__**missing**__** someone that they are probably feeling the same, but I don't think it's possible for you to miss me as much as I'm **__**missing**__** you right now**__**"**_

It was almost the end of July when it happened. I was lying on the floor, reading a fashion magazine and waiting for my nails to dry, when a knock sounded at the front door. Huffing in exasperation, I stood up, hands straight out in front of me, and peeked out the window. It was a police officer, so I opened the door.

"Hello, Kurt." At this point, our entire family was known by name.

"Hi. My father is out right now, but do you need to speak to Carole?" I was always exaggeratedly polite to them, just so I could keep them at a distance. Dad and Carole would make them snacks and visit with them and knew when someone was having a birthday, but I couldn't force friendliness at the best of times, and there was no way I could do it now.

"Actually yes. I have some pictures I would like her to look at." He stepped in and removed his hat.

"Live pictures or dead ones?" I tried not to think about how very strange my life had become that I considered that a normal question for a Thursday afternoon.

"Live ones. I really think that these might be Finn." He was uncomfortable under my direct stare, just like all of rest of them, but I didn't back down. Carole needed protection, and, if Dad wasn't there to do it, I needed to.

They always thought that it was Finn, and it never was. "I'll go get her. Please help yourself to a drink, there's some in the fridge."

Carole was taking a shower when I went upstairs, so I was sent back down to entertain the officer while she threw herself together. That was fine with me; I wanted to look at these pictures before she did, just so I would know what I was dealing with.

I took a deep breath before going back in the kitchen. No matter what I saw in these pictures, no matter who the boy really was, I would hold it together. I was Kurt God Damn Hummel, and I wasn't going to break down in front of some random stranger.

"She's just getting out of the shower, but she'll be down shortly. May I see the pictures?" This was the first test. If he refused to show them to me, that meant that they were bad. That the teenager in them was bloody or beaten or in the hospital with track marks all over his skin. You would think that the shock would wear off after the first dozen or so pictures exactly like that, but it never did. I always looked at those teens and wondered what had led them to that point, if there was someone out there still hoping they would come home.

"I don't see why not." He pushed a plain file folder my way. "They're a little blurry, since they were taken by a gas station camera, but you can see the face in a few."

The pictures were black and white, and the first few just showed a tall, dark haired man wearing a black jacket. The face was turned, but I thought I recognized the turn of his shoulders, the cock of his hip. My heart started to speed up as I raced through them until I found one that clearly showed his face.

It was Finn. The hair was too long and in his eyes, and he wasn't smiling, but I recognized him in the space of a heartbeat. "Oh, God. It's him."

Before I could stop myself, I was racing back up the stairs. "Carole! Carole! It's Finn! It's Finn in the pictures and he's alive! You have to come down here, it's Finn!"

She came out wearing a nice skirt and a sloppy T-shirt of my fathers, one that she had no doubt hurriedly fished out of the hamper when I came back upstairs. Carole always tried to dress nicely for the police, like she was trying to belatedly impress them with her parenting skills, but she was in too much of a rush right now. No matter that she didn't get out of her pajamas at home unless she was shopping or on her way to work. It was all about appearances, something that I could really appreciate. To her, there was no point in fixing up the outside at home, because he inside was in such turmoil. When I felt poorly, I dressed even fancier, in a pathetic attempt to mask my pain. The sad part was, I could usually pull it off. Mercedes knew me well enough to call me on my bullshit, but she was about the only one.

Carole turned to me at the top of the stairs. "It's him?" For the first time in over four months, there was hope in her voice.

"It's him." The excitement faded as I realized that maybe it wasn't. After all, I was his friend (kind of), but Carole was his mother. She would take one look at those pictures and be 100% sure and what if I had just gotten her hope up for nothing?

_ Oh, shush. You might not have known him for as long, but, trust me, you've spent as much time looking at him as anyone. More then most, actually. You know his face and his movements and his postures as well as anyone in this world, including his mother._

Carole looked over the same pictures I had and gasped. "That's him. That's my baby. Where is he?" She grabbed the folder and started tearing through it, looking for anything that might tell her how to get to Finn the fastest."

"The pictures were taken at a gas station in New Mexico. The station manager says that he has seen Finn, who he knows as 'Jeremy' on multiple occasions, with a man who he thought was Finn's father. He didn't think anything of it until he saw Finn's missing child picture in Newsweek and thought that it might be the same kid."

That didn't make sense. "Wait, he's seen Finn more then once and he didn't realize that anything was wrong?"

He flipped through the report. "According to him, he's seen Finn at least 4 or 5 times in the past month, usually paying for gas and a drink. He's never seen Finn arrive alone, the man is always either with him or waiting in the car. He's wasn't sure if he should call at first, since he clearly heard the man call Finn 'Jeremy' and Finn never seemed to be in actual distress and never asked for help, but the pictures seemed so alike that he felt like he had to. He said that Finn never talked to him at all, and the man he was with claimed that he was really shy." He pointed at the pictures again. "You are 100% sure that this is your son in the picture."

"Yes." Carole and I answered at the same time.

"Then what I need to do is get back to the station and let them know that it is Finn. Then we'll try and get a plan together so we can get Finn home safely."

"My baby is still alive." Carole's voice was a soft whisper. "I knew it, even when everyone tried to tell me he wasn't." She was clutching at the table and I wondered if she was about to have some sort of heart attack.

The officer noticed it, too. "Is there someone you can call to come be with you?"

"I'll call my Dad. Ok, Carole? I'm going to have Dad come home."

Dad was stunned when I told him what was happening. He kept asking me to repeat myself, and if I was sure that it was Finn. With each assurance that I was, his voice got guiltier. Like me, he had been sure that Finn was gone forever. He promised to come home as quickly as possible.

While we were waiting, I made some tea and then sat on the couch with Carole, almost in her lap. She kept a trembling arm around me, but didn't say anything. I wanted to do or say the right thing, but I had no idea what that was.

Finn was alive, I knew that now, but what sort of shape was he really in? The fact that he hadn't asked for help, despite being free to do so, scared me. If the man who he was with, and I had to assume that it was the same man who took him, had stayed in the car, why hadn't Finn tried to run, or scream or do anything but pay and leave?

For the first time since we found Puck's body, I wondered if Finn hadn't voluntarily run way after all. We had wasted months trying to find him, but he wasn't making any effort at all to get back to us.

_He's too scared. This man took him away from everyone and everything he knows, killed his best friend right in front of him, and has done God knows what else to him in the past four months, and you're really wondering why Finn gave up fighting? It's called Stockholm Syndrome, look it up._

I already knew what Stockholm Syndrome was. It was when someone was kidnapped and suffered so badly that they actually started to bond with their captors, to see them as allies in their strange new world. There had even been cases where the victim had lied or attempted to fight off rescuers just so they could stay with the people who had taken them in the first place. I couldn't understand it, but, then, I guessed I had never had an experience like that.

_Why don't you look it up anyway, particularly as it pertains to kidnapped children and teenagers? Grown men can have their psyches broken down in just 8 weeks of boot camp, so does it really surprise you that Finn would suffer the same thing in four months? If that gas station owner has only been seeing Finn for a month, that leaves three months in which Finn was probably never allowed to leave the house. Maybe he was beaten. Maybe he was raped. Maybe he was just kept trapped in one room, unable to even see the sun. How many ways can you think of to destroy someone?_

Enough that it made me feel sick to my stomach. I remembered my father saying something to that effect, that getting Finn home was going to be just the first step in really getting him back. Even if this man had treated him like a king, and even if Finn hadn't actually seen Puck die, he had still ripped a teenage boy away from his family, and kept him hidden for more then four months. That in itself would have been enough to scare me into just about anything.

The garage door rumbled, telling me that Dad was home. Carole startled out of whatever trance she had fallen into. "I didn't make dinner."

"It's still early. I can make us something." I could throw together some pasta or chicken or something."

She smiled at me. "You're such a help, Kurt. Your mother would be very proud of the man you're growing into."

Her words, quiet and heartfelt, took me by total surprise. "I, uh, thank you." It was a recurring worry of mine, what my mother would think about me now. Would she be proud of the way I remained true to myself, no matter what anyone said, or the way I never gave up, even against insurmountable odds? I liked to think that she would.

Of course, I had parts of my personality that I didn't like, and she probably wouldn't have liked either. I had a tendency to fixate on things, beyond what might be healthy, and I worried too much about being abandoned by Dad. I was stubborn and tended to demand that everything go my way, which might have been part of the problem with Finn and I living together. I wasn't used to having to share anything, and suddenly I had to share my most personal space.

_Newsflash, Kurt, he never had to share either. Maybe both of you would have done better if you were a little more patient during the adjustment period. You were in the wrong, but so was he. Also, so were both Carole and your father, so don't feel too badly about it._

She touched my neck gently. "Don't ever let anyone force you to change, ok? Even if you have nothing else, you have yourself."

I wondered if she was having the same thoughts that I was, that it was entirely possible that Finn had already lost himself. I nodded, my eyes locked on hers. "I won't." 

That was my excuse to leave, so I went back to the kitchen, not so much because I actually wanted to make dinner, but because it would be easy to eavesdrop from there. I know, it's wrong to do it, but if I didn't eavesdrop and snoop, I would have no idea what was happening around here.

Unfortunately, I didn't learn anything new. The officer had left copies of all of the pictures, and Dad agreed that it was definitely Finn, but that was about it. I made vegetarian lasagna, then set it in the oven to bake. If I didn't make an effort to create healthy meals, this family would never eat them. Not that I didn't appreciate Carole making the majority of our meals, since it meant that I didn't have to, but heart disease ran in the Hummel family, and, despite what he claimed, I knew that my father was still hiding things like Slim Jims and Twinkies at the garage. I actually found them in his tool box one time, hidden under the wrenches.

"We're going to New Mexico." Carole's words, calm and measured, made me jump. "At least I am. You can stay here, or you can come with me, either way is fine with me."

"Car, think about it. Why don't we let the police do their job, and see what they come up with? Finn might not even be in the town that his picture was taken in. He could have just been passing through."

"Officer Page said that he's been seen at the same station, 4 or 5 times, in the space of a month. That's once a week. He's there, Burt. I finally know where my baby is, and I have to go to him. If one person there has seen him, then other people have, too."

"Ok, how about I call the police, and we see what they recommend? If they think it's worth a shot, I'll close the garage for a few days and the two of us can go." Dad was placating the crazy woman now; I could hear it in his voice.

_Excuse both of them, are they really going to leave the kid who isn't missing all alone in Lima while they go chasing after the one who is? _

Carole read my mind. "What about Kurt? He can't stay here alone."

"Do you think it's good for him to go? I mean, we might not find Finn and, even if we do, we don't know if…well, he might be hurt or something. This has been hard on Kurt, too, and we don't want to disrupt him any more then we have to." Dad was dancing around what he was really thinking, which was that Finn might in too bad of shape for me to see him.

"No, I don't think he should go. Maybe he could stay with a friend? What about Mercedes? If we're going to leave him, it needs to be with someone that we can trust, and Mercedes is a good choice."

Dad made a rumbling noise. "I don't think her parents are comfortable having a boy spend the night, even if we all know Kurt won't try anything."

"Why don't you let me speak to her parents? I'm sure that, once they understand that this is a special circumstance, that we aren't asking for sleepovers every weekend, they'll understand."

"Agreed. If the police think that it's alright, we'll go to New Mexico and Kurt can stay with Mercedes. Provided that it's alright with him, of course."

A few days spent hanging out with my best friend in the world, doing manicures and facials and not having to watch every word that came out of my mouth for fear of upsetting one parent or another? Yes sir!

Their voices faded, so I set the timer and went upstairs to find my laptop. I pulled up Google and typed in exactly what the voice had suggested: Stockholm Syndrome kidnapped child.

Case after case popped up on the screen, some of them sounding exactly like what was happening with Finn. Elizabeth Smart, aged 14, stolen from her bedroom in the middle of the night. When she was found, 9 months later, she was not only with her captor on a public street and not trying to get help, she actually claimed that she wasn't Elizabeth Smart at all, but a girl named Augustine.

Steven Staynor, kidnapped at age 7 and held for 7 years. His kidnapper enrolled him in a public school under a fictitious name, allowed him to drive and have friends. Even as a teenager, he made no attempt to free himself until a much younger child was kidnapped by the same man. By the time he carried that child to safety, he could no longer even remember how to spell his last name.

Sean Hornbeck, kidnapped at age 11, and found at age 15. He was also enrolled at school under a fictitious name, and was frequently seen riding his bike alone laughing and apparently perfectly content.

Jaycee Duggard, snatched at age 11 and held for well over 18 years. She and the daughters that resulted from her being raped by her kidnapper were frequently seen at a local college campus, handing out religious literature. According to the student body, she had never seemed to be in need of help.

I was seeing a pattern here, one that made dizzy. All of these kids were forcefully taken by strangers, which was exactly like Finn, and every one of them had been repeatedly physically or sexually abused. Most had been both. I sent a brief prayer up to a God I had never really believed in. _Please, please let that not have happened to Finn. He's suffered enough, we all have, please don't have that one last thing taken away from him._

"Kurt, dinner!" Dad was calling, and I while had been starving when I first came upstairs, everything I had just read was making me want to vomit. But if I didn't eat, Carole would hover and Dad would coax and both of them would make me want to scream with their overparenting. So I checked myself over in the mirror, noting the pale skin and dark circles under my eyes, and shrugged. As terrible as I looked right now, it wasn't an unusual look for me these days, nor was it any different from the rest of the family.

I made sure to serve myself a decent sized portion of both lasagna and salad, which I would mostly push around the plate until we all gave up the pretense of a nice family dinner and I cleared the table.

Dad cleared his throat awkwardly. "Kurt, do you have any questions about anything that's happening? I'm sure you saw the pictures."

The only question I had was the one that none of us could answer yet: was Finn ok? "No. I mean, Finn's alive, and that's a good thing, right?"

"It is. Listen, the police have circulated Finn's picture, and they believe they know what sort of car the man was driving. It's only a matter of time before they find Finn, now, and Carole and I want to be there when it happens. I don't want you here alone, so are you alright with spending a few days with Mercedes?"

"Yes." I wasn't entirely successful in concealing my excitement, but hopefully they would think I was just happy about the thought of getting Finn back. I was, don't get me wrong, but I was afraid to get my hopes too high, just in case.

"You wouldn't be afraid to be away from us for that long? Because I can stay here if it would make you more comfortable."

I had to bite back a snort. I had been away from both Dad and Carole, the real Dad and Carole, ever since he had woken me up on that Saturday morning to ask where Finn was. There are a million ways to be missing, and they had proven that you didn't even have to leave the house to be gone. "No, Carole needs you more then I do right now. Plus, I do have that brand new cell phone. I can always call if I need to talk to either one of you." Not that we had much to talk about these days, but being able to hear their voices would be a comfort.

He nodded. "Alright. I expect you to be on your best behavior over there, I mean it. Carole's going to have to promise that woman the moon to keep you, so don't do anything to make us regret trusting you and sending you over there."

"I won't do anything to make it worse for you and Carole, I promise. Unlike some people, I have manners." My feelings were a little hurt that no one seemed to trust me, even though I was the one who had basically held this family together for the past few months.

He rubbed his forehead, like he was getting a headache. "I know, Kurt, I'm sorry. I know what a huge help you've been lately, taking on a lot of responsibility and that it hasn't been fair to you. I just…I have no idea how to handle this."

It meant a lot that someone had noticed how hard I was trying. "Thanks."

"I want to be able to help you, and to help Carole, but I can't seem to do anything right. I just keep thinking that it could have just as easily been you, and I don't think that I could survive losing you. I barely survived losing your mother." He awkwardly put out an arm, and I pressed myself into his embrace. "I love Finn, don't get me wrong, but you're my kid. Even if I can't show it, you will always come first to me."

I almost wished that he hadn't said that. Not that I didn't want to hear it, because I did, but it made me want to start crying, and if that happened, I was going to end up begging him to either stay here with me, or to take me with him and Carole and that couldn't happen. If I could hold it together until he and Carole left, I could cry to Mercedes later. She was the only one it was safe to break in front of. "I love you, too, Dad. I, uh, I need to start packing."

He smiled sadly and let me go. "Don't get too excited, Carole hasn't talked to Mrs. Jones yet."

No, but Carole was just like her son. Given the proper motivation, she could charm the leaves off the trees, and, really? Who could say no to a mother who was being given the chance to get her kid back?

Which brought me the current moment, lying underneath an umbrella beside the Berry pool, a virgin Cosmo clutched lightly in my fingers. Her Dads were in Paris for the week on some sort of second honeymoon (damn them! I'll bet they weren't shopping at all, just sightseeing. The opportunities that some people gave up, I swear), and she had decided to throw a party in their absence.

It had been surprisingly fun, especially considering that Quinn, who had somehow miraculously lost the baby weight and looked fantastic in her bikini, had taken Rachel aside and threatened her with death if we had to do anything resembling practice at this party. There would be enough time for that once school started again, and we needed a chance to reconnect after the summer and just hang out as friends. The 10 of us needed each other, and to stick together, in a way that we hadn't needed to before.

Everyone else was swimming, even Artie, but I wasn't going out in the sun. First of all, sun damage is a big no-no, since it leads to cancer, not to mention wrinkles, and second of all, I couldn't tan to save my life. I burned at the first hint of sun, then peeled, then freckled, all without even the slightest darkening of my skin. It was depressing, even if I did try to tell myself that pale skin was in on all of the models, and my coloring was perfect like it was.

_Kurt, you're 5'7. I'm pretty sure that modeling isn't anywhere in your future. _

That wasn't my fault either. My Dad was short, and he passed on his little genes to me. Besides, there was still time for me to hit a growth spurt.

_Uh-huh, you keep telling yourself that. But if you want to-_

The mental debate was cut off by the shrill of my cell phone. I lazily picked it up, seeing Dad's familiar number. "Hey Dad. Did you find him?"

"No, not yet. The police have narrowed down the type of car and put out posters everywhere, but Finn hasn't been to the station at all these week and it's no one else recognizes him or the car. It's like we just missed him."

Or maybe it had never been Finn in the first place "Oh." Suddenly the party didn't seem fun any more. I didn't understand how we could have come so close to Finn, even found the right town from across the country, and still not have anything to show for it.

"Don't give up hope now, kiddo, alright? If Finn was really here, someone else had to have seen him. We've been on the local news with his picture and description, so it's just a matter of time."

He had said the same thing a week ago, before they had even left. I stared into my brightly colored drink as it grew blurry with tears. "I know."

"I'll call you tonight, ok? I just wanted to hear your voice and make sure that you were alright."

"I am. We're having a party at Rachel's house right now, and Mercedes and I are going to a showing of My Fair Lady tonight." She had been doing her best to keep me as busy as possible, so I wouldn't dwell on what was happening in New Mexico. I would never tell her, but all it ended up doing was making me wait until after she had fallen asleep to start crying. Finn's dog, the one that I had taken off his bed just so I could hold something that he had held, worked pretty well to muffle my soft, choking, sobs. I would always pretend that I wasn't crying at all, and, if I was too loud and Mercedes did wake up, she would wrap a silent arm around me and not bring it up in the morning. I loved that girl so damn much.

"Ok, then. I'll let you enjoy your party and your sing-along, old movie play thing. Are you doing alright over there?"

"Yeah." My throat was way too tight, but I was used to that and still managed to make it sound normal.

"We'll call if there's any news." Despite his efforts to sound upbeat, I could tell that he didn't think that there was going to be any.

I wanted to go home, or even back to Mercedes' place, but I didn't want to spoil the party for everyone else. So I leaned back and closed my eyes, mentally putting together an outfit for first Mercedes, then myself. That always calmed me, no matter how bad things were. Putting together and outfit was a complicated but logical process. You didn't mix certain fabrics, or patterns, or colors, but there was freedom within those constraints. Let's see, I had that blue ruffled shirt, which would look really good with those skinny (to the point of being completely constricting, but we all had to suffer to look good) black leather pants, and a pair of heavy boots. Could I get away with a hat with that outfit, or would that look trashy with the embellished shirt? Maybe a beret, those were understated.

A sudden spasm of horror passed through me. That shirt, the one that perfectly completed the outfit, was at home, hanging in my wardrobe. Somehow, I had forgotten to pack it. Did I have anything else acceptable? I ran a mental perusal, and realized that I didn't. Either Mercedes and I would have to leave the party early, or I was going to have to go to a sing-along looking like I had been dressed by blind nuns.

_You have a third option, you know. Your car is here, and it would take 45 minutes to run home and get the shirt and come back. You could almost be back in the amount of time it would take for Mercedes to get out of the pool, take a quick shower to get the chlorine out of her hair, and get dressed. _

Except I had promised Dad that I would employ the buddy system at all times while he and Carole were away. Even though nothing bad was going to happen, he had put his trust in me, and I felt terrible breaking it.

_He'll never know. Won't it be nice to grab a few extra things, anyway?_

It would, and I could feel my resolve weakening. It would only be once and the chances of me being caught were miniscule. I stood up before I could chicken out. "Mercedes? I need to run to the house for a minute. I'll be back really quick."

She looked up from where she was floating on a raft, and flipped her sunglasses up. "Does it have to be right now? I just got comfortable."

"You don't have to come. It will just take a few minutes, and I'll be fine on my own."

"No way. I had to all but promise Finn's mother that I would handcuff myself to you this week before she would agree for you to stay with us. I'm not going to let you run around town all by yourself on day five."

That threw me for a minute. Carole had really been that concerned about me? I didn't even think she noticed me lately, except on the rare occasions that I was useful as a distraction from her pain. "A half hour, tops." I lowered my head and made myself look as pathetic as possible. "Please, 'Cedes. I just need a few minutes to get my blue shirt and I really want to be alone. I love you, but I'm starting to get suffocated."

Her eyes narrowed. "A half hour, Kurt. I expect a call when you get there, a call when you leave, and a call when you're almost back here. Kurt? I will be timing your pasty ass."

"Thanks." I set my drink down and grabbed the keys. This would be the first time I had been alone in the house in almost two months, and, despite my brave words, I wasn't sure how it was going to be. But if I backed down now, I would look like a wimp in front of not only Mercedes, but the entire rest of the Glee club.

I yelled a quick goodbye to Rachel, promising to be back quickly, and hopped in the car. The AC felt too cold, and I belatedly realized that I was sweating despite the heat. Was I really afraid of my own house?

The answer was apparently yes, because my stomach knotted tighter and tighter as I got closer. Maybe I didn't need that shirt after all. I could wear the black and white striped one that was a little off the shoulder with a pair of white pants and sneakers and probably look alright.

By the time I sorted that out, though, I was at the house and, as long as I was here, I might as well get the original outfit I had planned.

Our driveway curved around the side of the house, and there were tall, immaculately groomed bushes surrounding it, which meant that the front door was hidden until you were almost on top of it. I had never thought much about it before all of this happened, but now I approached the door with trepidation every time. What if someone was waiting, and used the bushes to screen themselves?

_That's stupid. Even if someone wanted to kidnap you, what reason would there be for them to hide out at a house that's been empty for almost a week, just hoping that you stop by all alone?_

That thought gave me a burst of confidence and I swung around the corner with a flourish that I hadn't felt in months. I had done such a good job of convincing myself that I was perfectly safe, that I ended up shrieking at the top of my lungs when I realized that there actually _was_ someone sitting on the porch.

The sudden noise made the huddled figure look up, and cut my scream off dead. I gasped, sure that I was dreaming. "Finn?"

Every time I had thought I saw Finn before, he had looked exactly like he had the day he disappeared. Now he was pale and trembling, his hair hanging in his eyes and wearing a black hoodie sweatshirt that was way too warm for the 85 degree heat. When I stretched out my hand, it met solid flesh instead of going right through him. "Oh, God, Finn."


	7. Chapter 7

**From this point on in my life nothing is ever going to be the same. Nothing can ever be the same. I don't want anything to ever be the same. **

**Author Unknown**

It was Finn. Scared, traumatized and silent, but it was Finn. I threw my arms around him, pressing close and remembering his feel and his smell and the fact that I was still only as tall as his chest. All those little things that I had started to forget in only four months. He didn't push me away, but he didn't hug me back, nor did he make any effort to snuggle closer. It was like he didn't even realize I was there.

How he had made it across the country, to end up exactly where he had started out, didn't even cross my mind. That was in the past now, and I had no idea what to do with him in the present. Should I call 911? Use the direct line to the police station? Dad and Carole? Take him to the hospital? No one had told me what to do.

_Why don't you start by letting him inside? Prada only knows how long he's been sitting out there. Then call your parents. Don't you think that they deserve to know what's happening?_

I might hate that voice, but it did serve its purpose when I was panicking. "Come on, let's get you inside."

My hand was still on his back, guiding gently, and, again, he made no effort to resist me. Once we were inside, he heaved out a huge breath and collapsed on the couch, flopping over like a puppet with its strings cut.

Carole's phone went to voice mail, and I had almost given up on Dad when he picked up, sounding tired and grumpy. "No luck yet, Kurt, I'll call you if anything changes."

"I know you didn't find him because I did. Finn's here." I was too shocked to cushion the blow.

"WHAT!" His voice was so loud that not only did I have to hold the phone away from my ear, but Finn startled on the couch, looking around like he expected to see Dad appear out of the woodwork. "KURT ANTHONY, YOU BETTER START EXPLAINING YOURSELF RIGHT NOW!"

Dad very seldom yelled, and it made me nervous when he did. "I don't know! I came over to the house to get a shirt, and he was just sitting there on the steps. He hasn't said anything and I don't know what to do now." My voice cracked, which was a nice complement to my badly trembling hands.

"Is he ok?" He had gotten himself back under control, though I could still hear the strain in his voice. "He's not hurt is he?"

I dropped my voice and stepped away, so Finn couldn't hear me and know that I was talking about him. Why I bothered was questionable, since Finn wasn't even acting like he knew I existed at the moment. "I don't know. He was able to walk, but he isn't talking and he doesn't look like he's slept in days."

"Take him to the hospital right now. Don't let him eat or drink anything, just take him. There are…tests that they need to do on him, and if you give him anything, it could mess up the results. They're going to take his clothes, so pack him something to wear. Carole and I will fly back in tonight. I want you to hang on a minute. She's asleep, but I'm going to wake her up so she can talk to him." 

"Ok." I walked back over and lightly touched Finn's shoulder. He broke his staring contest with the blank television to look at me. Well, more accurately, he looked through me. Even though our eyes were aligned, there was no connection there, no recognition. I held out my phone, and, when he failed to take it, pressed the device into his grip. "Your mother is coming."

Nothing in his eyes or face changed, but he held the phone to his ear. I knew that I was pushing the limits with touching him today, but I couldn't keep my hands off of him. For once, it had nothing to do with wanting to caress his muscles (which he still had by the way, he hadn't lost weight wherever he was), and everything to do with the fact that I still couldn't believe that he was actually here. "We need to go to the hospital, and I'm going to pack you a bag."

If I had been Finn, and I had just gotten home after four months, I would have thrown a fit at being asked to leave again, but he didn't even blink. "Ok….I guess I'll just go and do that now."

I pulled my designer luggage, because Finn deserved the best, and started packing. Jeans, a favorite T-shirt, boxer shorts (they were a necessity, it wasn't like I was getting off by pawing through his underwear), socks, his sneakers. Then I thought that they might want to hold him overnight, so I packed him some pajamas. Then I packed all the same things for myself, since Dad and Carole wouldn't be back until tomorrow at the earliest, and someone would need to stay with Finn. Naturally, my things were about a million times more fashionable then his, but I was trying to go with what was familiar to him.

Once I had done that, I drug the suitcase back upstairs, finding Finn exactly where I had left him, phone still pressed to his ear. I waited for a few minutes, but he gave no indication that there was even anyone on the other line anymore, so I reached out and took it back. He made no effort to hang on to it, just let his hand drop back down to his lap. I put the receiver up. "Hello? Carole, are you there?"

"Kurt?" Her voice was barely recognizable through the tears. "Kurt, is he really there? It felt like him, but he wouldn't say anything."

My heart pitched downwards. Even if he wasn't speaking to me, I had been sure that Finn would talk for his mother. "He's really here. I don't know how he got here, but it's him. He's not talking to me either, but he doesn't really look hurt. We're going to the hospital now." As I spoke, I tugged Finn's arm and he rose without protest.

"I'm going to call ahead for you, so everything is ready. Your father already has us packed, and we'll be in on the first flight. Please take care of him, Kurt."

It was an odd feeling, to know that I was being trusted with the most important thing in Carole's world. "I will. I promise, I'll stay with him until you get here."

My phone kept beeping, telling me that I had another call trying to come in, but I ignored it. No one could be as important as Carole right now. It wasn't until I had drug Finn out to the car and tossed the suitcase in the backseat that I realized it had been Mercedes trying to get through to me. In all the excitement, I had forgotten to call her and tell her that I was at the house.

With shaking fingers, I dialed her back. It only rang once before she was on the phone, in full on 'I am woman, hear me roar' mode. "Kurt Hummel, did I not tell you to call me as soon as you got there? Not only did you not call, you didn't answer when I tried to call you! Your privileges are done, mister, do you hear me? Done! As soon as you get back here, you will hand me those keys, and you aren't getting them back until your father gets home. If something had-"

I cut her off. "'Cedes, listen." My voice wasn't loud, but my tone must have gotten through, because she shut up. "I'm on my way to the hospital. With Finn."

"Are you hurt? Why are you on the way to-" Then the rest of what I had said sunk in. "With Finn? He's home?" Her voice had gone incredibly soft.

"He's home. I don't know how, he was just sitting on the steps. It was like he never left. Don't tell anyone, though, ok? He's already scared to death and I don't want everyone camped out at the hospital waiting for him. Just tell everyone that I got sick or something and I went home."

"Of course." She was stunned. "I'll let my parents know what's going on, and you tell Finn how much I love him and I've missed him."

"Mercedes says she missed you." Finn didn't so much as turn his head from where he was staring blankly out the window. "I'll call you when I know something, ok?"

"Ok. Kurt? Take care of Finn, but take care of yourself, too. I love you."

"I love you, too." I hung up and just stared at the phone for a minute before forcing some cheer. "Ok, Cowboy, are you ready to go to the doctor?"

He didn't so much as turn his head, much less answer me. I kept going; more to hear the sound of my voice then because I thought he was going to magically start to speak. "Ok, then, I'll take that as a 'yes, Kurt, I would love for you to take me to the doctor.' I don't know who your regular doctor is, so we're going to the ER instead. I don't know what you and Carole talked about, but they need to do some tests, so we can make sure that you're healthy, alright?"

This time he shrugged very slightly. Or maybe I was reading too much into it, since I so badly wanted him to acknowledge me. He might have just been shifting around to get more comfortable.

"Anyway, Dad and Carole are coming home on the first flight, but they don't' know when that's going to be, so it's just you and me for now. Brothers, just like we talked about, right? Us against everyone?" I was hoping that he would remember our last conversation.

This time he did turn to me, his eyes searching mine. I had no idea what he was looking for. Reassurance? I could do that. Love? No matter what type he wanted, I was capable of that, too. Help? Maybe, but I couldn't know what he needed until he asked me. We were at a red light, so it was easy for me to stare back. Maybe he was reading in my eyes what I couldn't read in his.

Then, ever so slowly, he reached out and laid one hand on my knee. It was a feather light touch, and he didn't speak or even change expression, but it was at least something, and more then I had gotten so far. When I looked down, I noticed that all of his fingernails were either broken raggedly or bitten way down. Wherever Finn had been, it looked like he had been fighting for his life.

I knew better then to act like I had even noticed that, though. So I just put my hand over his. "I agree. Us against the world."

The light changed and my attention went back to the road, but Finn didn't move his hand. It remained there, a tenuous connection, all the way to the hospital. I was afraid that he would refuse to get out of the car once we were there, but I had forgotten that this was Finn we were talking about. He was generally passive about things, and as long as I stayed strong and kept him moving, it should be alright. "Come on."

He wouldn't hold my hand when we walked, even though I offered, but he did walk very closely, his head swinging constantly from side to side as he took in everything that was happening. Before, he would have trotted along, happy with the world and his place in it while rambling on about something that generally made no sense. Now he was tense and hunched in on himself, looking at every person like they were out to do him harm. Somehow Finn had turned into me while he was gone.

Carole had really come through for us, because as soon as I gave the triage nurse Finn's name, we were taken to the back, where four uniformed police officers, plus two doctors were waiting for us. Finn blanched and tried to back up, but just ended up running into me. I put a hand on his back. "Easy."

His muscles were locked under my fingers and I could feel his breathing getting quicker and quicker. If he flipped out and ran right now, we might not catch him, and even if we could, it would just make an already terrible situation even worse. I put my hands on my hips. "There are too many people in this room. Either the doctors stay or the police do, but not both."

They all looked at me like I had lost my mind. One of the police officers that had been to the house multiple times nodded at me. "Kurt, I know this is difficult, but we all need to be here, to make sure that Finn gets the care he needs."

"No, the _doctors_ need to make sure Finn gets the right care. _You_ need to make sure you catch the guy who took him. If it's difficult for us, it's miserable for him." I tried to make myself sound less hysterical, which was hard, since I was about to flip out. But if I freaked, it would leave Finn with no one to speak up for him. "Please. Can't we just go one at a time?"

That, of course, led to a 10 minute debate on whether it was more important to get Finn medically checked out, or take a statement immediately. Finally, it was decided that the police could try and get a statement, since Finn wasn't in any obvious pain or distress, then they would have to leave so the doctors could do what they needed. I didn't like it, but I did understand that Finn's case was incredibly high profile, probably the highest profile that Lima had ever seen, so they were determined to do it by the book. One police officer would remain with Finn at all times, so that he would be protected if the need arose.

I could have told the officers what was going to happen (or not happen, as it would turn out), but they knew that Finn and I were not technically related, nor was I even close to 18, so I was afraid that they would kick me out of the room. Maybe Finn wouldn't care, but maybe he would, and I had promised Carole I would take care of Finn and I was going to stand by that.

"Ok, Finn, I'm Officer Logan and I want to ask you a few questions." Some gentle coaxing had convinced Finn to sit on the exam table, but now he was staring at the floor and refused to look up. "We've all been looking for you for the past 4 months. The Lima police, your parents, your brother. You were even in Newsweek, did you know that?"

Finn was blocking him out as steadily as he had blocked me out earlier. The officer gave me a helpless look and I shrugged at him. Wasn't it his job as a policeman to know how to help Finn?

_Isn't it your job as Finn's brother to help him out?_

I guessed so. So I leaned over and touched Finn's leg again. "Finn, please. We're just trying to help, here"

When he looked up at me, I was shocked by pain in his eyes. This wasn't temper, this wasn't stubbornness, this was Finn, whether it was from fear or an injury, genuinely not being able to speak. I shook my head at Officer Logan. "I don't think he's going to talk."

"Just five minutes, Finn, that's all I'm asking for. Can you tell me anything about where you've been? Someone took your picture in New Mexico, have you been there the entire time? Did someone make you go with them, or did you go along of your own free will?"

That should have garnered a response, but Finn didn't rise to the bait. He wasn't going to talk, and none of us could force it. We waited the entire five minutes, trying everything from coaxing to demanding to just letting Finn sit in silence. Officer Logan nodded. "Ok, I'm going to let the doctors come back in and look at you. If you think of anything you want to tell us, just let the doctor or your brother know and he'll come get me, ok?" 

He stepped out and a doctor stepped in. "Hi, Finn, I'm Dr. Brown. You do go by Finn, right? Not Finnegan?"

Finn hated being called by his given name, and that was enough to make him nod slightly. He didn't raise his eyes, but it was an obvious head movement.

"Ok, Finn, now, does anything hurt? Anything bruised, any tummy aches, headaches?" When that failed to get even the tiniest response, he nodded. "Can you take your sweatshirt off for me? If you have something on under that, take it off too so I can listen to your heart."

My stomach was somewhere around my throat, waiting for Finn to lose it, or at least refuse to strip in front of me, but he did it without complaint. I was nice enough to look down and give him as much privacy as you can give someone when you're stuck in a 6x6 box with them. At least I did until I heard Dr. Brown whistle. "Ouch, that looks like it hurts. What happened to your wrists, Finn?"

I glanced over and instantly wished that I hadn't. Finn's wrists were a mess of bruises, black ones layered over green ones over purple ones. At least four on each wrist, judging by the colors, running all the way around. Dr. Brown took his hands gently and examined the injuries. "Ok, Finn, did somebody grab your wrists, or tie them up, or put handcuffs on you? I need to know, because I have to know how to treat them. Do you think that your wrists might be broken?" 

Finn's head shake was a little more obvious this time, so he must be feeling comfortable with this doctor. "Can you rotate them for me?" This time Finn moved without hesitation, turning them smoothly and without any signs of pain. Dr. Brown stroked ran his fingers over each bruise. "I don't see any actual cuts or rawness, and they're very evenly spaced, so my guess would be you've been pulling against handcuffs. Rope would chafe the skin. Am I right?"

_ Well, there's your answer about why he didn't run, and why he was wearing a hoodie in the middle of summer. Can't have him running around in short sleeves with bruises like that, can we?_

Finn wouldn't respond to the question, so the doctor moved on to listening to his heart and lungs. "Everything sounds good here, Finn. You have a strong heart and your lungs sound good. How about you hop up on the scale for me."

Finn slid off of the table and climbed onto the scale, never taking his eyes off the floor. Weights were moved and I studied his back in silence. He was incredibly tan, enough so that I suspected that he had been in New Mexico for most of, if not all of, the time he had been missing. Damn, I wished I could tan like that, instead of burning. From what I could see, Finn didn't look too skinny or to heavy. My previous thought had been correct; he looked exactly like he had when he had left us.

_So basically, they were tying him up, or handcuffing as the case might be, but they were feeding him. He must have had some value to them, since they did seem to be taking care of at least some of his needs_.

If Finn didn't any value to them, they wouldn't have taken him. I was just afraid of what that value might be.

"We have a few more tests to do, but we have to do them in another room, which means your brother can't go with you. There will be a nurse in there, though."

Since Finn had barely acknowledged that I was alive since we had walked in, I was surprised when his head popped up and he seemed upset at leaving. I forced a smile. "It's alright, Finn, I'll be right here."

He didn't look convinced, so I gave the doctor my most charming look, hoping to be invited along. Dr. Brown looked over Finn's shoulder and shook his head. "These are personal tests, that are going to involve you naked, and I'm not guessing you're going to want your brother along. We'll come right back when you're finished, and then we can see about getting you something to eat. We're going to X-ray those wrists, too, just to be on the safe side, so Kurt can't come."

In other words, they were also going to do a rape kit. I had known that, since I had studied everything that could possibly have to do with kidnapping obsessively since Finn disappeared, but we were talking about someone who didn't even know how regular sex worked. He was going to be absolutely terrified when presented with a rectal exam. "Please explain what you're doing, he's scared enough."

"We'll be as gentle and as quick as possible. Finn, are you ready?" I liked that he was addressing Finn directly, even though he wasn't getting much response back.

No verbal response, but Finn did reluctantly follow him from the room, though he continually looked back at me, as if I could do something to help him. I tried to smile encouragingly, and was rewarded with a small smile back.

Once the door had closed and I was sure that Finn wasn't coming back, the shaking started. I had been tough for Finn, tough for Carole, and tough for Dad, but I could no longer be tough for myself. I rested my head in my shaking hands and tried to calm my racing heart. Terrible thoughts began racing around in my head, and I felt powerless to stop them.

_I wish I hadn't set Dad up with Carole. Then Finn would have never gone missing, or at least it wouldn't be my problem. I wish I had left Finn alone, then Carole would have made him stay home that last night. I wish that Finn had shown up while Dad and Carole were still here. I wish that Finn hadn't shown back up at all. I wish Finn had died instead of Puck._

None of those things were actually true, but I couldn't stop thinking them. The cruelty of the last two made my breath stop, and I was having trouble starting it again. The room got too bright, and even though I could feel my muscles struggling, it was like trying to breathe through a coffee straw.

I was going to die. I was going to suffocate in a hospital, less then 10 feet from help, because I couldn't summon the breath to call for them. Finn was back, but I was going to end up taking his place.

_No you aren't. Hit the emergency button the bed, you moron. You aren't actually dying; you just think that you are. Now do it before you pass out._

I clicked the button, and was gratified to see one of the officers open it within seconds. "Did you need- oh shit." He turned back to the hall and presumably the nurses station. "I need some help immediately."

He came over to my side, kneeling down in front of me. "Kurt! Kurt, I need you to calm down, ok? You're having a panic attack, nothing else is wrong. You're ok, Finn's ok, there's nothing to worry about. Deep breaths, now, just like I'm doing."

How could he say there was nothing wrong when I was actually dying here? I tried to mimic him, and found some of the tightness in my chest loosening. A nurse popped in the door and assessed the situation quickly. "Kurt do you have asthma?"

I managed to shake my head. "Ok, we're just going to get you on the bed and give you a little air. I'm going to put a mask on your face, but it's just a little extra oxygen to help you breath better. It's not going to hurt you. You can close your eyes if it would make you feel better."

My legs gave out when I tried to stand, so the officer lifted me up onto the bed. The mask came down on my face, despite the nurses words; I tried to push it away. But someone was holding it firm and I didn't have the strength to keep going. Why didn't they understand that I was already choking, and pushing something on my face was only making it worse?

After a few minutes (that felt like hours, but I knew that they weren't.) I was able to draw one deep breath, then another. The fuzziness of the room faded, and I was able to see that both the police officer and the nurse were new. The nurse patted my shoulder. "Are you feeling better?"

Not really. Actually, I felt more like I had been run over by a truck, then forced to go to Glee practice, then gone straight to Cheerio's practice until midnight. I shrugged and pushed at the mask again. It bothered me and was probably going to make me break out from the rubbing. It was removed immediately, and I never thought I would be so grateful for the disinfectant-smelling, recirculated hospital air as I was at that moment. The nurse brought me a soda and a lollipop, neither of which I was going to eat. I had already eaten and drunk more then enough empty calories at Rachel's party earlier, thank you very much.

Thinking of Rachel's party made me realize that it was probably still going on. We hadn't even been at the hospital for an hour, and it was only 3 in the afternoon. Everyone but Mercedes thought that Finn was still missing, and even she was still enjoying the pool and the nice weather. I hated to sound like a total bitch, but I was jealous of her. Deep down, I had thought that things would magically get better once we had Finn back, even though everyone had told me that they wouldn't.

The nurse gestured at the unopened sucker. "You need to eat that and take a few sips of the soda. Your body is in mild shock right now and you need to bring your blood sugar back up."

That made sense, but I was feeling ornery (and that probably meant that she was right about the blood sugar thing, damn it), and I shook my head. "It will make me fat."

She laughed. "If you're being argumentative, you must feel better. Since you're obviously a teenager, I'll give you a choice. Either eat the lollipop and drink the soda, or I'll come back with an IV and you can have nice mixture through it. I'll guarantee that there are more calories in that then the little bitty sucker."

I hated needles, so I reluctantly peeled of the wrapper and put the sucker in my mouth, crunching through it as quickly as I could. About the time I was done, Finn reentered with Officer Logan, wearing a hospital gown and looking like he wanted to die of embarrassment. His eyes narrowed when he saw me on the bed and he made a few gestures around his face. I raised a questioning eyebrow and he mimicked crying. I shook my head at him. "I wasn't. I just got dizzy and needed to lie down for a bit. You can have your bed back."

He came a little closer with an odd, halting, gait, and ran one finger up my cheek. I jumped, because I couldn't remember the last time Finn had touched my bare skin, other then when he had to, like in Glee or when he needed to help me with something at home. He extended his hand back to me, and I could clearly see the wetness there. "I guess I had a little panic attack." I tried to keep my voice light, so I wouldn't upset him. He didn't need the extra stress right now.

_Neither do you. Carole and your father won't be getting here until tomorrow morning at the earliest, so the pair of you are on your own until then. He's scared, but he's not stupid. Well, he's not stupid_er_. It's alright to lean on him a little._

Finn's head cocked and he patted my shoulder. Before turning and sitting in the chair, still using that strange walk. "Did you hurt your leg? You weren't limping before."

He flushed darkly and glared at the Officer Logan. Since Finn was still pulling his 'silent as the grave' act, I looked to the officer for help. He sighed. "They took all of Finn's clothes for testing, including his underwear. Add in the fact that the hospital gowns are not really designed for someone his size and I think he's afraid of flashing something inappropriate. Don't worry, Finn, no one in this room wants to see that."

_Kurt does._

No I didn't. I was Finn's brother now, that was it. I was over my feelings for him, I had to be.

_You don't pick who you love. Unfortunatly._

Yeah, I knew that. But, no matter what my feelings were, and I was getting more confused about that by the second, Finn needed me to be a brother now. After all, look where flirting with him had gotten me last time.

_Finally, he gets it. Now, what are you going to do with this brand new information?  
_

Right at the moment, I was going to do nothing. Finn was showing a problem that I could actually do something about. "Does he have to wear it? Because I thought this might happen, so I packed some extra clothes and pajamas. Can we go home tonight?"

"No. Finn doesn't need to stay medically, but we can't let him go until his mother actually signs for him to be released. It's really bending the rules to have you here at all, since you're underaged and not technically family. So, unless your parents can bend time to get here faster, Finn will be spending the night. If you would like to go home, Kurt, one of my deputies will take you."

I looked over at Finn. "Finn, do you want me to go home? Because I can stay if you would like me to."

He just looked at me without making a single gesture. Our face off lasted about ten seconds, then he put out his hands, palms up. I wished he would just say something, anything. If he wanted to curse and scream and tell everyone that I was gay and had an inappropriate crush on him, it would still be better then his eerie silence. "Yes or no, Finn, it's not rocket science." I was tired and not feeling well and my irritation was starting to show.

"You might need to phrase it better." The nurse had brought in a tray of food while we were being told that we needed to stay the night, and had stayed to listen.

"Pardon?" Now I was being full on bitchy, but she didn't say anything.

"Well, first you asked 'do you want me to go home?' Nodding his head would say, 'yes, I want you to go home.'. Then you said 'I can stay if you like.' Now nodding tells you to stay. I don't think he knows which questions he's supposed to be answering."

Good point. I looked Finn in the eyes. "Would you like me to stay tonight?"

This time his nod was very plain, and I saw him mouth the word 'yes', even though no actual sound escaped. Progress, though. "Then I'll stay. I wasn't exactly sure what to pack you, but there are clothes in there for both of us."

The minute Finn opened the suitcase and saw his own clothing, the entire day became worth it. His smile could have lit the sun as he picked up a white T-shirt with Scooby-Doo on it; one that I had seen him wear often enough to know that it was a favorite. He took it and the pajama pants into the bathroom and emerged a few minutes later, walking normally and looking like himself again. Thank Prada, because that hideous gown managed to not only wash out his skin, which was quite an accomplishment considering how tan he was, but actually gave him a sickly cast. I gave him my most winning smile. "You look like you again."

He nodded happily. It seemed that with every minute that passed, Finn was getting more comfortable with what was happening. Hopefully he would be talking by later tonight, but, if not, he would certainly do it for his mother tomorrow morning.

I climbed off the bed so he could get into it and eat his dinner. So far, he had treated me like he usually did, like I was his little brother (even though I was two months older, but that was a bitch for another time.). It was like the last few weeks had been erased in his mind, and I was a safe person to him again.

_I wouldn't bet on it. He's attached himself to you right now, not because he trusts you, but because you're familiar to him. He would have been just as enthusiastic about Rachel, or Mr. Shue, or even Puck._

Puck. For all of our speculation about what had actually happened the night Puck died and Finn disappeared, nobody actually knew but Puck, Finn, and whoever had taken him. Did Finn even know that his best friend was dead? Dad seemed to think that he did, and that that was how Finn had been convinced to go along with the kidnapping, but I wasn't sure. One thing was certain: I wasn't going to be the one to bring it up.

Finn inhaled the food like he hadn't been fed in days; even eating the parsley that I was pretty sure was supposed to be a decoration. Honestly, I was surprised that he didn't try and lick the plate. I didn't want to bring up his atrocious table manners, since a) I had no idea when he had last eaten, but it had to have at least since this morning and b) I didn't want to mess things up between us. So I turned the other way and mildly asked if he wanted me to try and get something else. He shook his head, but lightly touched his mouth with his fingers, looking pathetic. I watched the gesture several times before venturing a guess. "You aren't hungry, but you are thirsty?"

I didn't even have to wait for the nod, because that stupid voice was chattering away again. _No, Kurt, he's just fine. So far he's gotten a little Dixie cup of water with his meal, which he gulped, and nothing else because they needed to do an oral swab for the rape kit. I'm sure sitting out in the 85 degree heat in a black hoodie didn't make him thirsty or anything._

"Do you want a soda? I could get you one from the hall machine." Soda was comfort food, right? At least for Finn.

He shook his head and pointed first at me, then the chair. I huffed. "You know, this would be a lot easier if you would just tell me what you needed."

The smile faded and now he just looked sad. I tried to salvage the situation. "Or we could play charades. I guess it's better then watching Jerry Springer or the Jesus channel. Ok, show me again."

He plainly gestured to me, then the chair, then held out both hands, palms down and pushed them downwards. Nothing about what he was doing suggested thirst so I tried puzzling it out. "You want me, and the chair…sitting down? You're thirsty, but you would rather I stay here then go out in the hall and get you a drink?"

Thumbs-up. "Would you like me to ask the police officer right outside the door to get you one then?"

That was acceptable, so I fished around for some quarters, explaining to the cop that Finn would like a drink. He waved off my offer to pay and brought two Cokes, one for each of us. I accepted mine, but figured I would let Finn have it once he finished his.

Except Finn only drank about half of it before settling down and turning on the television. Whether they had given him something or he was just exhausted, his eyes were starting to flutter closed. I didn't begrudge him the sleep, especially since I was feeling tired myself. I had never realized how bad a panic attack could be, and I cringed to think about what it had done to my metabolism and skin, but I was afraid to sleep until Finn did, afraid that no one else would play the guessing game with him and he wouldn't get what he needed, afraid that he would feel abandoned if I wasn't right there and awake, just generally afraid. I was good at putting on a brave face and getting through it, but I really wanted Dad and Carole to get here.

Luckily, it didn't take long for Finn's eyes to close completely and his breathing to even out. I waited a few minutes, just to be sure he was really asleep, then rose and hung the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the front of the door. Then I stretched out in the convertible chair, thankful, for once, for my small size that let me be at least semi comfortable. I didn't usually nap during the day, so I didn't figure I would sleep long, just enough to recharge myself after everything that had happened.

I fell asleep quickly, but was woken a few minutes later when someone leaned over me. I opened my eyes just enough so that I could peek through my lashes, and was surprised to see Finn. Apparently he hadn't been asleep after all. He was holding the blanket off the bed with one hand and one of the pillows in the other. Moving with a quiet grace I would have never attributed to him in a million years, he draped the blanket over me and angled the pillow so that my head was supported. He was extremely careful not to touch me in any way, just moved the blanket until I was covered. Then he climbed back into his bed and curled up.

Either he was really asleep this time, or he had learned to play possum really well, because he didn't react when a nurse entered the room and quietly checked both of us. I didn't react either, because I just didn't have the energy to try and fake a nice conversation.

She made a note on Finn's chart, then left. Unfortunately, she didn't close the door all the way, which left me in an excellent position to eavesdrop on the conversation between her and the police officer that had gotten us the drinks. She was sounded exhausted when she asked. "Where are the parents for these boys? I have one who's been abused and won't talk, and one who had a panic attack for no reason. This is a hospital, not a holding pen for strays. They need their mother." 

"The parents are flying in from New Mexico as we speak. They love the boys very much, and its killing them not to be here right now. Just leave them alone for now. If they need anything, one of us guys from the department will take care of it." His voice was calm and I wondered if he had kids of his own. Then he sighed deeply. "The rape kit was positive then? Poor little thing."

My stomach rolled. Rape happened, I knew it did, but I never thought it would happen to someone I knew, much less someone I loved. Much less Finn, who, despite his shortcomings (and there were lots of them), quite possibly had the biggest heart and gentlest nature in the entire world. This was going to destroy him.

"The rape kit was technically negative. No semen present, no scarring or tears, no signs of STI's, though we won't know for sure until the blood tests come back. It was more his behavior during the exam. I really thought we were going to have to sensitize to stop him from hurting himself during the exam, he was so freaked out. Shaking, jerking around, it all started when we tried to get his clothes off so they could be sent for testing. Not a sound from him, though, even though his throats ok. No bruising, no swelling, his vocal cords seem fine. He's under a mild sedative now, which is helping him rest, so don't be surprised if he stays asleep for a few hours."

The officer, whose name I should really learn, because he was being so kind of Finn and I, was quiet for a few minutes, then spoke. "Isn't that normal, though? I mean, we have a presumably straight kid who Mom and the brother both swear is still a virgin, so he's not used to having anyone touch him like that. Then someone basically comes in and says 'here you go, I'm going to shove one giant Q-tip down your throat and the other up your butt'. I would have been freaking out, too."

"Normal to a degree. Lord knows I've had enough grown men have panic attacks from just a prostate exam. But this was different. The kid was really fighting for his life. Then, as soon as the doctor came in and touched him, we had a total shut down. He just stood there and let us do whatever we wanted to him. He as still so tense he was shaking, but he didn't even wiggle."

"Too scared to fight back."

"Or he's learned that it doesn't matter if he does or not, because he can't win. Even if everything comes back negative, and the physical findings say nothing happened, something did. The only way we're going to know for sure is if Finn tells us, and, right now, I don't think he can. Maybe once he settles back in and has his parents around he'll do better."

I noticed that the officer didn't make any attempt to correct her when she referred to Carole and Dad as our parents. Maybe he didn't know, or maybe he just didn't want to air the Hudson/Hummel dirty laundry in front of the world, but I was surprised as how ok I was with it. Carole wasn't Mom, but maybe she didn't have to be. Maybe it was alright for her just to be Carole, as long as Finn was willing to share her. "Hey, Finn?" I kept my voice low, so as not to wake him if he was sleeping.

He turned to look at me, and I realized that he could hear everything being discussed in the hall as well. I wasn't sure if I should say something about it, though, or what to say if I was supposed to, so I went in the other direction and whispered. "I'm really glad you're home."

He lightly touched his chest, then raised his pointer and middle finger in a peace sign and held it out to me. I had no trouble reading that meaning.

_Me, too._


	8. Chapter 8

_**Just as the body goes into shock after a physical trauma, so does the human psyche go into shock after the impact of a major loss.**__**  
**__**Anne Grant**__**  
**_

Finn and I were released from the hospital the next day, as soon as Dad and Carole got in. I left much the same as I had arrived, while Finn got to go home with a prescription for antibiotics and a list of psychiatric referrals. No one had come right out and said to take him as soon as possible, but no one would meet our eyes when Carole asked if it wasn't better to just give him some time.

It wasn't exactly the reunion that any of us had expected, or hoped for, for the past few months. In my dreams, the police brought Finn home from wherever he had been, and he rushed to, telling us how sorry he was that he had gotten lost like he had, and promising to never leave our sight again.

The reality was that Finn leapt out of the bed and thrown himself into Carole's arms, sobbing brokenly but silently. With a strength I hadn't thought she possessed, she lifted him into the chair and rocked him gently, muttering soothingly and telling him over and over how much she loved him. I went to Dad, and while he sat down next to me on the bed with his arm around my shoulders, I couldn't help but feel a little jealous of Finn.

"You did a good job, Kurt. You did everything right and we couldn't have done it better." The unexpected compliment brought tears to my eyes and suddenly all four of us were crying and I honestly couldn't tell if it was because we were happy or sad or both.

Once everything had settled down, Dad put a hand out to pat Finn's shoulder. "I'm glad to see you again, kid."

His hand never connected. As soon as Finn saw him reaching forward, he threw himself back against Carole, burying his face in her shoulder and starting to shake. Dad put his hand down instantly. "Ok, I won't touch you. I've missed you very much." His voice was hurt, and if I could pick up on it, I knew that Finn could, too.

Carole attempted to salvage the moment. "It's ok, Finn, it's only Burt. You know who Burt is." She glanced at Dad over Finn's head. "I'm sorry, Burt, I think we're all a little out of sorts tonight. Things will be better once we've all had a chance to get used to sleeping in our own beds again.

Only it hadn't happened that way. Finn had now been home an entire two and a half weeks, and he didn't seem much different from when I found him sitting on the porch. He still didn't talk, he barely slept and he either devoured everything he was offered to eat without regard to table manners, or refused it entirely. There was no rhyme or reason to what he would or wouldn't eat, and it was wearing us all down. Two nights ago Carole made three different dinners, and he still went to bed hungry. After that, Dad had put his foot down and said that Finn could either eat with the family or not at all, but it was ridiculous for her to act like a short order cook. No normal teenage boy would willingly starve himself to death.

This, naturally, led to a massive fight, which they held behind closed doors in whispers, and Finn and I heard anyway through the vent in the bathroom. I had tried to shoo him from the room, so I could eavesdrop by myself, but he had remained stubbornly glued to my side.

The gist of the fight was that we were supposed to be making things as normal as possible for Finn, and Carole running herself ragged to cater to his whims wasn't normal. She countered that Finn needed to eat to survive, and he would start eating normally soon. This was something that she could do for him, at a time when it didn't seem like she could do anything else. I noticed that neither one of them said what they had to be secretly thinking, which was that Finn wasn't normal these days, and nothing else could possibly be.

I had been convinced that that would be the end of them, and that Finn and Carole would be living in their own house by the next day, and, from the look in his eyes, Finn felt the same way. Just a few months ago, I would have been able to read the worry in his entire face, but now I had to go off of the slight color change in his irises. Somewhere along the line, Finn had learned how to close off his face.

But that didn't happen either. The fight got quieter and quieter until we couldn't hear anything at all. When they finally emerged, it was impossible to tell that they had ever been at odds. It was an impressive show, but it only served to make me wonder what else they might be trying to hide from us.

The only thing that had changed for the better was that he seemed to have lost his fear of me. We were still sharing a bedroom, and he went downstairs at night without complaining. He still dressed and undressed in the bathroom, though he made no effort to put the screen up between us.

_You know why he's not scared of you any more? Because he's found out what sexual harassment really is, and he knows that was you did wasn't the same. Actually, I would guess that he knows a lot more about harassment, and sex period then he should. _

Deep down, I knew that. But I was afraid to push Finn, especially since it had gone over so poorly before. So I ignored that voice as best I could and let Finn do as he pleased. 

Just because he started out in our shared bedroom, it didn't mean he would stay there. Sometimes he would fall asleep, sometimes not, but he would always get up and go upstairs before midnight. Every morning I got up and found him on the couch, watching a movie. Or, more accurately, he was staring at the menu screen of a DVD. I couldn't tell if he had fallen asleep watching the movie and woken up when I came up the stairs, or if he had spent all night staring at the menu. He would much rather stay awake until Carole got home from work, then sleep in her and Dad's room while she watched over him.

The normal thing to do would have been to call him on it, but, like I've said, there isn't much normal in our house these days. Instead I would make us some breakfast, then sit down with him and watch the movie. This was how I found out that there were three American Pie movies, four Scary Movie movies, and about a million episodes of South Park. Dear God, no wonder Finn acted like he didn't have any brains. They had all been rotted out by this drivel.

Then I came down this morning and found that he had raided my DVD shelf and was watching _My Fair Lady_ instead. Finn was sitting quietly, watching Eliza dance across the menu screen without any discernable expression. "Musicals, Finn?"

He grinned at me and patted the couch next to his leg. My heart stuttered and almost stopped. Finn Hudson wanted me to sit with him. Finn Hudson wanted me to sit with him and watch a movie. Backtracking from there, it was logical assumption that Finn had chosen the movie for me, since he would generally rather stab himself in the eye then watch a classic.

_Don't get your hopes up. Neither one of us knows what's going on in Finn's brain right now, but I'm guessing that flirting with you isn't high on his list of plans. Maybe he chose the movie deliberately, but if he did, it was a friendly gesture, rather then a romantic one. Plus, this is Finn we're talking about. He probably thought My Fair Lady was about insane Carnies chasing a girl with huge tits and a distinct lack of smarts._

Why did that voice have to ruin every good moment I ever had? Yes, I was fully aware that Finn wasn't making romantic overtures at me, but he was acknowledging that I existed, which was more then he was giving Dad. Well, I guessed vanishing from the room every time Dad entered it was acknowledging him, if you wanted to be picky, but Finn was showing that he knew I had preferences different from his own and being willing to accommodate that.

I made us some cereal (Lucky Charms for Finn, Museli for me, something that made his nose wrinkle). "Do you even want to know what that processed sugar is doing to your colon?"

He made a confused face and held out his hands. Carole had bought him a pad of paper that he could use to write out things he wanted or needed, but Finn was forever losing it or just plain refusing to write things. Still, he was pretty good at acting things out. "Your colon? It's the lowest part of your intestines. With the amount of sugary crap you're throwing into it, I predict that it will be another few weeks before it falls right out of your rectum."

Finn apparently did know what a rectum was, because his eyes widened and he cocked his head, making that face he always made when he was trying to figure out if I was serious or not. Then he gave me a goofy grin and shook his head, telling me that he knew I was bullshitting him. "Not much gets past you, huh?"

He chuckled without making even the smallest noise, then started the movie. That was something else I had noticed about Finn since he came back. It wasn't just that he didn't talk; it was that he didn't make noise at all. Not when he laughed, not when he cried, not even to try and get our attention. His silence was so total that he had been referred to the Cleveland Clinic for more tests to see if he had a physical problem. He didn't, though it had taken both Carole and Dad to physically drag him out of the house and into the car, and he barfed twice on the ride because he was so stressed out. It hurt all of us, to see him so scared, but not be able to do anything to help him.

That had finally broken Carole down, and she had made an appointment for Finn to be seen in two days by a therapist who apparently specialized in teens with mutism problems. I had had no idea that there were enough of them to warrant a specialty.

I let the movie play for a few minutes before cautiously speaking. "Finn?" He looked over, the question in his eyes. "I wanted to give you the heads up that Mercedes and Tina are coming over this afternoon. We've been planning a mani/pedi and movie date for three weeks, but we can change it if you're uncomfortable. I mean, we could order you a pizza and you could stay downstairs if you wanted and-" 

Wrong comment. Finn jumped backwards, drenching both of us with oversugared milk from his cereal, as he scooted to the other end of the couch. His head shook back and forth so hard that I was afraid that he was going to hurt himself. I mentally reran my last statement, trying to figure out what the problem was. "Finn! Chill!" Was it that he didn't want Tina and Mercedes around? He had refused to see anyone outside of the family since he had been back. "I'll make them leave you alone. They don't even have to see you if you don't want them to."

That didn't help. Now he was shaking violently and starting to wheeze. If I didn't do something quickly, he was going to have a panic attack, just like I had had at the hospital. But how could I help him if I couldn't figure out what was wrong?

_You know what's wrong. Let me say your words back to you, exactly how they sounded to him. Finn, I'm having company over, but you need to say out of sight. I'll allow you to eat, but you're going to stay in the basement the entire time. You are not allowed to be seen. I'm hiding you away somewhere where no one that you know will be able to see you. Do you get it now?_

Yes, I got it now. I reached out and wrapped my arms around Finn's shaking body. "Easy, Cowboy. Be calm, you don't have to go downstairs if you don't want to. If you like, you can even join us. What color do you prefer for your nails? Pink would look nice with your skin. Or, if you wanted to go for drama, silver is very in this season." I kept talking, keeping my voice as calm as possible, and Finn started to relax. "No reason to freak out, but you're probably going to want to be out of your pajamas when they get here."

He cautiously eased back down, making sure to avoid the wet spot from where he had spilled milk. That probably should have been my cue to let him go, but he didn't make any move to pull away. I rubbed his back with my free hand, feeling his heart race against my fingers. "Calm now."

I was surprised at how easily he accepted my touch. Then again, Finn had always liked to snuggle and be touched, and his options were limited these days especially since he wouldn't let Dad get within ten feet of him. Actually, I could remember him letting me do this before, back when we still thought the baby was his. Of course, that he been before everything happened between us, though he had yet to give any indication that he wanted to discuss that further. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

That voice started singing in the back of my mind, cheerfully rambling on to the theme of the Mickey Mouse Club_. D-E-N! I-A-L! Let's call it denial! If he lets himself remember how things ended with the pair of you, that means that the only person in the house he can trust is Carole. He has to do this, to block out the fact that he was afraid of you, or he's not going to survive._

Still, the patting seemed to help, and his head lolled back. I kept rubbing, my eyes staying on the screen so I wouldn't have to look at Finn. His breathing slowed and his heartbeat gradually became normal again. We were three songs in before I gathered the courage to look over again. He was calm for the moment, but he might freak out later. Finn was unpredictable since he had reappeared (actually, he had been a little unpredictable before, too).

When I finally looked, I got another surprise. Finn was nearly asleep; his chin slumped down to his chest. For the first time since he came home, he actually looked relaxed. I eased my hand down and just looked at him for a minute. Finn's skin isn't as pale as mine, and his tan made it even darker, but I could still see the dark circles underneath his eyes. Catching a few hours of sleep after Carole came home, added to the hour or two he spend sleeping in our shared room still didn't add up to much. Four hours, five tops. Before he had vanished he had needed 9 hours or he was crabby and bitchy. He wasn't crabby now, though, he just kept getting more and more detached. We were losing him, even though we had barely found him.

I would have liked nothing more then to just let him rest, but we were running out of time. "Finn? Hey, Finn?"

He looked blearily at me, one eyebrow rising slightly. "Why don't you go down and take the first shower? Then you'll have plenty of hot water and you won't have to rush because I took too long. I'll stay up here, so you can leave both doors open."

That was another new thing with Finn. Whereas before he never minded crawling around under the bed or hiding in the closet to jump out and startle me, he had become extremely claustrophobic now. He wouldn't even go in the closet (which meant that his clothes were all over the dresser and floor and it just made me want to cry) and he insisted on all the doors being open at all times. This tended to get sticky, as his new worries included both the bathroom and shower doors as well as the one at the top of the stairs. It wouldn't have been that long ago that I would have been thrilled at the thought of getting to see Finn take a shower, but that time was over. Almost. Ok, I still kind of wanted to see him in the shower, but I knew it wasn't in either of our best interests.

It had taken two days of fighting (both of us- me yelling and him gesturing frantically), tears (him), and raging temper tantrums (me) before we managed to come to an agreement of sorts. The bathroom door could be open no more then 5 inches, because there was no toilet cubicle and there were just things we did not need to see each other doing, the light in there always had to be on, even at night, though it was ok for the door to be completely closed then, and the door at the top of the stairs had to open at least half way at all times. As far as the shower door went, I had just given in and gotten used to the floor being wet after he showered. It was a small price to pay to have Finn back, no matter how many times I almost slipped on the sopping floor because he hadn't cleaned up the water like he had promised he would. At least I thought that that had been what he was promising. I was planning on getting him a sign language book later this week, just so we could at least go over the basics together. Of course, this therapist might have him talking by then, so maybe it would be a moot point.

_Bullfrogs. Wings._

That voice had a point. It had taken Finn four months to get in this condition, and it was foolish to think that he would be better in just a few days. I forced a smile, even though I knew that Finn wasn't fooled by it. "Ok?"

Thumbs up. He slid off the couch, picking up both bowls and taking them to the kitchen. He hadn't been so tidy before, so there was at least one positive change in him. "They'll be here at one, so ready before then. If you change your mind about seeing them, it's fine."

His head shook firmly. "Ok, but I'm coming down there in a half hour, so you better be decent."

Finn's a speed demon in the shower, which I guess is easy when you don't even know what conditioner is, much less things like exfoliants and moisturizer and toner. Damn the fact that he was still stunning without any of that.

On the other hand, Finn wasn't deaf. He wasn't autistic or otherwise unaware of the world around him. When the mood struck him, he could actually be quite communicative, especially when there was something in it for him. If anything he was more aware of us then he had been before, always keeping one eye on the action. I just…I wanted him to be Finn again.

_He's back, I kind of think you got one miracle there. How many do you think you should be allowed? _

I guess I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. So instead of sulking, I picked up the phone and dialed Mercedes. "Hey, Gorgeous Girl."

"Hi, Baby, we still on for today? You would not believe how terrible my nails look."

"Of course we are. I just wanted to talk to you about Finn." I did my best to make my voice strong and calm, like it was totally normal to have to warn people how to behave around my newly crazy brother.

"How is he? He talking yet?" She didn't sound hopeful. After all, she had been getting almost hourly updates since Finn came home, just so I could talk to someone who was one step removed from the madness. Though, with as much as she had to listen to me complain about things, she was entrenched almost as deeply as we were.

"No." My voice cracked and I took a minute to steady it. "He's….I guess he's doing alright. He's interacting with me a little more, not clinging to Carole as much. It's just…I though that things would be better when he got back, but they're not. And he doesn't mop up the bathroom floor!" The last part was the least important, but somehow it just summed everything up and my voice shot up an octave.

"Make him go back and mop it. It doesn't sound like he's gone stupid, just a little bit crazy and a lot lazy. You can't make him talk, it's not possible. And if he's as panicky about being shut in as you say he is, it's not right to force him to close the doors, but he can clean water off the floor just fine."

Easy for her to say. Even though everyone kept telling us to treat Finn as normally as possible, it was hard. Yes, I wanted the old Finn back, but every time I got ready to yell at him, or make him do something, I remembered how close we had come to not having him at all. Then I thought about everything he had been through, and I just couldn't bring myself to push.

Not that any of us actually knew what he had been through, though. The first night he had been back I had tiptoed over to his bed and softly whispered that he could tell me anything, that I would listen and wouldn't tell our parents or anyone else, even Mercedes. He had shrugged and looked down at the blankets, so I had backed off, telling him that the offer stood at any time. He had blocked Carole out as well, so maybe it was a good thing that he was going into therapy. Maybe he would be more comfortable with someone outside of the family.

There were a few things we did know. Finn had tested negative for all STI's, which meant he could discontinue the antibiotics. That didn't rule out that he had been abused or molested, but at least he was physically healthy. His wrists were less tender and the worst of the bruising had gone away. They were still an amazing variety of colors, but at least the total blackness was gone.

The neighbor who was supposed to be watching the house filled in another piece of the puzzle. The day before we found Finn, she had seen a strange white SUV turn around in our driveway. That wasn't unusual, considering that we were close to the end of a poorly marked dead end street, and people were forever turning around in our driveway. But the man who had taken Finn drove a white SUV and hadn't been seen in New Mexico recently. Had he known that he was in trouble, and thus brought Finn home? Or had it just been another lost person, trying to get back to a main road?

If it had been Finn's captor returning him, and there didn't seem to be any other way for him to have gotten home, then Finn had been sitting on our front steps for almost 24 hours, scared and unable to find his family in the one place that we all should have been. Dad had made me sit in a few different places on the porch, and, if Finn had been quiet and very still, the bushes and shadows of the porch would have effectively shielded him from our neighbors.

_He must have been terrified. He probably thought that you three had moved away or been eaten by dragons or one of his other strange thoughts and that he was alone in the world. Poor guy._

I didn't like thinking about that, because it made my heart clench so hard. I had been up late gossiping with Mercedes and hanging out by the pool with fruity cocktails while Finn had been sitting on the porch, injured and scared.

"Hello!" Mercedes sounded pissed and I realized that I had drifted off in the middle of the conversation. "If you aren't going to listen to my suggestions, don't ask for them."

"Sorry. I just…I know I should make him do it, but I just can't force him right now. I get pissed, but then I look at him and I think that, with everything he's been through, I really shouldn't be so upset about a little water."

She huffed. "Ok, look at it this way. The longer you pussyfoot around Finn, and don't make him pull his weight in the house, and make him special meals and give in to his every whim, the more you make him feel like there really is something wrong with him. That he has to be babied and coddled because he's damaged in some way. He's not going to act normal until someone tries to treat him normal."

I could see the logic in that. Was our trying to help Finn just making him worse? "I guess so. You just don't see the way he looks at us, though. He acts like Dad is going to kill him. Not just that he's uncomfortable with him, that he actually thinks Dad will do him physical harm. It's just sad."

"It is sad, but it has nothing to do with you, him, and the floor. Tell him to clean it up, or this is going to end up escalating in your mind until you freak out on him. Then it really will turn ugly." Her voice became perky again. "Now that I've solved your family problems for you, why did you call?" 

God, things sounded easy when she put them that way. "I'm just wanted to give you the heads up on Finn, now that he's in the bathroom and can't overhear us. Now that he doesn't talk, he's freakishly quiet. You can pass everything on to Tina."

The line was quiet for a minute, long enough that I thought I had lost the connection. I was about to say something lese when she spoke again. "Is he really that bad, Kurt?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. I mean…just; however he acts, no matter how strange, could you not make a big deal out of it? You're the first people he's seen outside of the family, other then doctors, and I want it to go well."

"Act like White Boy is fine, even if he's being a freak, got it. Honestly, Kurt, Tina and I know how to handle the crazy. Besides, he's still Finn and we missed him, too."

I hadn't really thought about that. On one level, I had known that the rest of the Glee club had lost Finn too, but things were so bad in our family that I hadn't really thought about it. "Thanks Mercedes, you're the best. Oh, and don't say anything about Puck under any circumstances. The doctors said not to bring it up until he does."

"I'll tell Tina. Listen, my sister's bugging me to make some breakfast, so I need to go. I'll see you in a little bit."

I wanted her to stay on the line, to tell me everything I needed to know about taking care of Finn, because I obviously couldn't figure it out for myself, but I just whispered a goodbye and hung up. It hadn't quite been a half hour, but I went to the top of the stairs anyway and called down. "Are you finished?"

There was an enthusiastic series of thumps on the wall, Finn's own version of Morse code. That meant he was out of the shower and decent, so I came down. Finn was dressed in jeans and a long sleeved shirt, his feet bare, rummaging around under his bed, his body pressed as far back as possible, so he wouldn't actually have to go under there. "What are you looking for?"

He jumped, then shot me a guilty look, almost like I had caught him doing something wrong. Our staring contest went on for a few seconds before I shrugged. "Question withdrawn. Though if it was your porn, it's hidden in my closet. I didn't want you mother to see it."

I must have been pretty good at interpreting Finn after all, because he gave me a big grin and jumped up to hug me. He mouthed a 'thank you' at me, but of course didn't speak. "No problem, but I do not ever, _ever, _want even the slightest inkling of what you and that porn do together, ok?"

He gave me a long, searching look, then smiled. Only it wasn't like his normal smile. It was a sneaky quirk of his lips, and it made me wonder just what he was planning. Then he gestured to the closet. I was tempted to tell him to go get it himself, but decided I had upset him enough for one day. "Yeah, yeah, I'll get it. Can I touch those boxes without gloves and an immediate need to sterilize my hands?"

A nod that I wasn't 100% sure I believed. I retrieved the two boxes, noticing the way Finn set one carelessly on his bed, then tenderly cradled the other, setting it in his lap and carefully picking the tape off. I hovered, not sure if he wanted me to leave, or even if he really remembered that I was there. In the end I stayed, because…well, I guess because I was nosy.

_And because you love him._

There wasn't much I could say to that, since I knew that it was true. I wasn't over Finn, I would never be over Finn, and he was barely aware that I existed.

_Barely aware is still aware. And anyway, he's more then barely aware. Right at the moment, you're the second most important person to him, after Carole. _

The voice in the back of my head is schizophrenic. Before Finn left, all I had heard was 'leave Finn alone' and 'you're acting like a stalker creep'. Now it was all lovey and 'oh, Kurt, you're important to Finn' and 'you love him, don't you?' What was I supposed to think?

_Things are different now. He's different, you're different, everything is different. What was right then isn't right now._

I was drawn back to reality by the soft jingle of music notes. Finn had removed a music box from the box, so small that it fit easily in his hands. The lid was raised and it played a soft song that I was able to instantly place. He pointed at me, and I softly sang a few bars, keeping time with the chiming notes.

Why do birds suddenly appear

Every time, you are near?

Just like me, they long to be

Close to you

Those were the only lyrics I knew for sure, but Finn didn't seem to mind the repetition as he rewound the box a few more times. Finally he let it run down, and I realized that I had somehow sat next to him on the bed. "Where did it come from?"

He closed the lid and tipped the box up so I could see the names carved into the front. Carole and Christopher, April 5th 1994. "Christopher was your Dad?"

A quick nod and he reopened the lid to show me the two wedding rings and set of dog tags inside. He picked the rings up, the gold looking comically tiny in his huge hand. "She doesn't wear it any more?" 

The question was too intrusive and I knew it, but Finn didn't really react. He shook the rings lightly and put them back on the velvet. Then he looked at me and started to gesture. He nodded, then pointed upstairs, then shook his head and pointed back at the rings. "I have no idea what you're trying to tell me."

He bit his lip in frustration, then reopened the box. He pointed at me, then his mother's name. I interrupted his gestures to make sure I understood. "Ok, I'm your Mom?"

A quick thumbs up while he reach back inside. He came up with the smaller ring and slid it on my pinky finger. "She used to wear it. You remember her wearing it, even." The intimacy of the gesture nearly took my breath away. I'm sure that Finn didn't even consider what he was doing or how it might look when he put a ring on my finger.

_That's a good thing, honey. It means he's seeing you less as 'Oh my God, gay!' and more just as Kurt, who happens to be gay. He's not planning his every move based on how you might take it._

Finn, naturally, was completely unaware of my inner monologue as he nodded, then sat back for a minute, clearly contemplating how to express himself next. Then he stood and walked over to my side of the room, picking up a picture off the dresser and bringing it back. It was one of the last that had my mother in it, with the three of us sitting outside the house. Finn pointed to my father, then used one finger to draw a circle around the house. Then his hand was back on mine and he took the ring off, returning it to its rightful place with his fathers. I reran the sequence in my mind and made a good guess. "She wore it until my father came along, and then you moved in here. After she got serious with Dad enough to move in, she took the ring off, and she gave the box and both rings to you."

I could always tell when I had gotten it right, because Finn's entire face would light up with happiness. It was one of the only genuine emotions I had seen from him this past week, and it thrilled me every time. For once, I was doing something for Finn that no one else could. Carole tried, but, while she understood a lot of what Finn wanted by instinct, she didn't read his gestures as well as I did.

The box closed, and Finn put it next to his bed. Almost at the same moment, the doorbell rang. Could the girls really be this early? I hadn't even showered, much less put on my face, but I also couldn't send Finn up there by himself. We both looked up and my phone started buzzing. I picked it up. _Kurt- Tina has to go to the doctor later, so we came early. Let us in!_

I took a deep breath and tried to sound cheery. "Well Finn, they're here. You ready?"

_Please let this go well_.


	9. Chapter 9

_**I'm holding on to something that used to be there hoping it will come back, knowing it won't**_

Finn followed me closely up the stairs, not seeming the slightest bit anxious or afraid. It made me wonder if he was bored, too, trapped in the house with his mother, a man he was terrified of, and me. It wasn't like people weren't dying to see him, though. Almost every member of the Glee Club had called, but he had refused to come to the phone. My plan was to use today as a bit of a litmus test. If he did well with Tina and Mercedes, maybe we could try having a few more people come over. Matt and Mike were gentle and calm, but seeing them might remind him too much of Puck, and I just didn't want to open that particular can of worms.

I couldn't really ignore the fact that it was almost August, and school was going to start again at the end of September. Finn hadn't completed his sophomore year, but having him repeat it because he had missed the last two months was ridiculous considering the circumstances. Of course, if he couldn't talk or sit in a closed classroom, I guessed it was a moot point.

Finn drew behind me a bit when we reached the doorway, though his face didn't change. Now was probably not the time to remind him that it didn't really work like that, since he was at least 8 inches taller then I was and everyone could see him anyway. If he got a little bit of security and comfort from it, let him do it.

I was nervous as I opened the door, and I think the girls were, too. Usually they threw themselves inside, laughing and squealing about the latest bit of gossip, but now they were quiet and sweet, doing their best not to overwhelm Finn. Finally Tina broke the stalemate be reaching out to give him a hug, one that he softly returned. "I missed you, Finn."

He made the 'me, too' gesture at her. I started to translate, but it didn't turn out to be necessary. She reached up and brushed his hair with impossibly gentle fingers. "I like your hair a little long like this. It's kind of curly, right? I wish my hair would do that. Instead I have to spend all morning with the curling iron."

"You and me both." I started to steer us down to the basement, where we usually did our manicures. This was going rather well. The girls were behaving and Finn hadn't freaked out. "What I wouldn't give for just a little bit of body in mine, and instead it does nothing. Nothing! There is no justice in this world."

Finn was more then used to my dramatics at this point, so he didn't react at all to my shouting. Tina tugged him gently. "Are we doing your nails, too?"

There was no outright refusal, just a one-shouldered shrug. I interpreted that as he didn't really want his nails done, but he did want to stay with us. "You don't have to."

He still didn't give a yes or no, but he did follow us down and watch as I took out all of the supplies. Mercedes started lining up the colors and Tina snatched the black and silver. "How about these? They're masculine and they look really cool. It'll be just like when you were singing KISS." She showed him the bottles. "Black, silver, black, silver, or I could paint them one color and put a little swirl on them in the other."

Ok, even _I_ thought that that sounded a little gay. Finn rolled his eyes then reached out to tap first one bottle then the other. Back and forth, back and forth. Tina laughed. "Ok, we alternate. Oh, and, no offence or anything, but I'm having Kurt do my nails instead of you. I do not trust those huge hands to hold that tiny little polish brush."

She sat down on the floor and patted the rug across from her. "Come on, you have to soak your hands first."

Looking stunned, Finn sat down where she had indicated and allowed her to put his hands in the small bowl. "You shouldn't bite your nails, you know. It's a gross habit."

I was half paying attention to them and half paying attention to Mercedes and her nails. As afraid as I had been about how the day would go, I had to admit that Tina was doing great with Finn. Maybe it was because she was so shy herself, but she didn't seem to have any trouble prattling on to him, always leaving a pause where he could say something if he wanted to, but never letting it drag out until it became an awkward silence. She even asked him questions, but didn't make up an answer for him when wouldn't speak to her.

_See, that's what you're supposed to be doing. Look how happy he looks. Maybe you could ask her for some tips._

Finn did look happy. For once, someone was talking to him about things he liked, like video games (and who would have thought that Tina would play Call of Duty?) and the new pizza place that had opened out by the mall that had slices as big as your head, and the fact that she and Artie were dating again and did Finn think that the boy should always pay for things, or was it alright for the girl to sometimes? Or did that take away Artie's man card or some ridiculous thing like that?

I stayed on hand to interpret Finn's responses, but neither one of them needed me. Finn was able to clearly express that, in his opinion; the girl could pay, too, without it being an issue. She nodded and shook the little bottles. "I thought so. I'm telling him that you say so, and you're a guy so you know things."

He gave her one of those soundless laughs and held his hands out for polish. I felt the familiar surge of jealousy as I wondered why it was that Finn seemed to prefer Tina, or really everyone else, to me.

_He doesn't. He laughs for you, too, and he's watching you now. Oh, for Gods sake, Kurt, don't look over there! Really? Has no one taught you how to be subtle when you check someone out?_

That was rather insulting, considering how well I had done with subtly checking Finn out for the past year and a half. I lowered my eyes, pretending to focus on Mercedes and her nails, then flicked my gaze in Finn's direction. Sure enough, he kept glancing over, as though he had to make sure I wasn't about to disappear on him.

In the end, I had to admit that Finn's new nails did give off a kind of a rock star vibe. He seemed impressed with them as well, and told Tina so in gestures. She blew him a kiss. "Thank you."

He looked confused, so she repeated the gesture. "It's how you say 'thank you' in sign language. At least I think that's what you were trying to tell me."

It apparently was, because he repeated the gesture several more times, giving her a dazzling smile. If I had known that it would make him that happy, I would have gotten the sign language book before then. Tina gave Finn another hug, then looked over at me. "Are you two almost finished? I have to go to the doctor today for my physical; otherwise I can't do Glee next year. Apparently singing is so stressful that I might have a heart attack while doing it."

It was the first time that Glee, or even the upcoming school year had been brought up in front of Finn. He stood up and went over to his side of the room, rummaging around for something. Tina was horrified. "Finn! You're going to mess up your nails!"

He found what he was looking for, which was his notebook and delicately lifted a pen off of the nightstand. He scrawled quickly and offered the notebook over to Tina. She read it out loud. "How's Mr. Shue?"

He nodded. "Oh, he's good. He's missed you a lot, so if you want to see him I'm sure he'd come over. Or we can go over to his place; it's kind of become the Glee hang out. You know, since his wife is gone."

Finn cocked his head at her, but didn't give an indication either way. She shrugged. "You can think about it and let Kurt know, he's got Mr. Shue's number, too."

Tina wanted her nails dark blue, nearly black and I busied myself painting them. Mercedes and Finn crowded in to watch, but she didn't actually make any effort to speak to him and he ignored her like she wasn't even present. It bothered her, but Finn tended to treat everyone like that these days. Unfortunately, there was no way for me to tell her that right in front of him.

Such a dark color required at least three coats to look nice, and Finn started nodding off somewhere around the second one. I wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. He looked so miserable, with his chin almost to his chest and his eyes glazed over. But he was actually falling asleep, which meant he did trust us to do anything to him while he was resting. That was progress, right?

_Or he's so tired that he's passing out on his feet. _

I wished that that voice would just go away. Tina followed me eyes over to Finn and saw what I did. "Are you tired?"

He nodded. "Are you having trouble sleeping?" She didn't look at him when she talked, but I knew that she was totally focused on his answer. "Because I get the worst insomnia sometimes, and it totally sucks to not be able to fall asleep."

Finn's face was a mask of sympathy when he nodded at her. "I never had nightmares or anything, I just had trouble falling asleep, and then I would wake up a bunch of times and not be able to settle down again."

Another enthusiastic nod, complete with gestures that indicated he had the same problem. Tina was good at getting him to communicate. "Did the doctor send you home with anything to help?"

The doctor hadn't sent anything, because Finn hadn't been showing sleeping problems then, and he was simply refusing to leave the house now. "They didn't send him with anything."

Finn shot me a look that said I was infringing on his conversation. I shot my bitchiest one back and he smiled a bit. I was surprised at how normal it felt. Like Finn and I still had a special connection, even after everything that had happened.

"You should try melatonin. It worked really well for me and you don't need a prescription or anything. You can get it at Walgreens."

Finn looked interested, so she continued. "It's just a little pill that you take 20 minutes before you want to lay down, and it makes it easier for you to fall asleep."

I had never heard of something like that, but Tina seemed pretty sure of herself. "What are you two doing tonight?"

"Nothing. We kind of have a small social life these days." I tried not to sound resentful, because I really wasn't, and it wasn't like getting to spend more time with Finn was terrible or anything.

"How about we come back after my appointment, then? You and Mercedes can do whatever it is you do, and Finn and I can play video games. I can even bring a pizza from that new place. How does that sound, Finn?"

He jumped to his feet and bolted up the stairs before any of us could even consider stopping him. Tina shot me a dismayed look. "I'm sorry, Kurt, I didn't mean to upset him."

"I know. It's kind of hard to tell what does and does not upset him lately." I stood up. "Let me go track him down and make sure he's ok. Tina, do not smudge those nails."

As it turned out, I didn't need to go very far. Finn came screeching around the corner of the kitchen and almost knocked me back down the steps. "Whoa, Cowboy." I put my hand on his chest, and was pleased when he didn't try to sidestep me.

He was clutching what looked like a DVD case to his chest, but I couldn't tell which one it was. "Are you ok? You bolted on us."

A quick nod. He held the DVD out, and I could see that it wasn't a DVD at all, but the video game I had bought him. "Oh, you went to get this to show Tina?" That made sense. Not everything Finn did these days was the result of having been kidnapped. Sometimes he was just a 16 year old boy whose body worked faster then his brain did.

He put a hand to his mouth, then blew me a kiss. My heart stuttered to a stop, before I realized that he was repeating Tina's gesture from earlier. He was thanking me, not coming on to me. "Thank you? For the game?"

It was one single gesture, but it was more then that, too. It was a way for him to communicate with perfect clarity, even if he wasn't ready to speak yet. I made a mental note to a book as quickly as possible, so he could learn more. Even if the therapist could get him talking quickly, it never hurt to have a back up plan.

Tina was suitably impressed with the game, gushing excitedly while he smiled at her. Mercedes cut her eyes in their direction. "This is going pretty well." Her voice was a soft whisper.

"Better then I expected. I think he's bored being here, but he refused to so much as set foot outside the front door."

"Do you blame him? If the same thing that had happened to him happened to me, I would never leave the house again either"

I didn't say anything else, because there was a chance that both Finn and Tina could overhear us, and what I needed to say was private. "Are you coming back with Tina?"

"If you like. But I am not playing video games, got it?" Her eyes cut quickly to me, telling me that she understood what I wasn't saying. She and I could talk while Tina kept Finn distracted with video games.

Tina held up her hand. "Before we get too excited, let me call my parents. They're kind of old fashioned, and they don't like me staying too late at a boys house."

"Tell them that both my father and Finn's mother will be home all evening, and that they are welcome to speak to both of them." The tension in the house had faded noticeably with both girls here, and I wasn't eager to have them leave.

We all watched as she pulled her phone out and dialed. "Hey, Mom, it's me. Would it be ok if I went back to Kurt and Finn's after my physical and had dinner with them?...We're going to pick up pizza….no, both parents will be here and Mercedes will be, too….because it's a Glee thing, Mom…Ok, fine." She put a hand over the receiver. "She wants me to talk to my Dad."

Both Finn and I were staring, because this was fascinating. My father would have already given me the go ahead, and Carole would be demanding to talk to the parents in the house. Finn looked especially interested, and I was getting the impression that he was taking a lesson in playing one parent off the other. Of course, playing my father would involve actually interacting with the man, something that hadn't happened yet.

"Hi, Daddy. Look, I'm having a great time over at Finn and Kurt's house. Would it be alright if I stayed for dinner?...Yes, both of their parents will be there. Finn's Mom is upstairs right now if you want to talk to her….Finn has great games for the X-box….really, he did?...yeah, we're still dating, but I'm upset with him right now….because he's a misogynistic jerk, that's why….I know, at least Finn and Kurt know how to treat a girl like a lady…No, Daddy, they aren't…Daddy! No!...Thank you, Daddy, I love you! Ok, by 11. Bye, Daddy."

She snapped the phone shut with a smug smile. "Daddy says I can stay."

I wondered if two X chromosomes would allow me to manipulate my father like that. I also wondered what her father had asked about Finn and I. Finn gave her a high five, obviously pleased with the outcome. She prattled on at him for a few more minutes, before he invited her upstairs to come look at something. She went easily, leaving Mercedes and I alone. I released a soft breath, squeezing my eyes shut to release the tension.

"Kurt?" Mercedes sounded concerned, and make myself look at her, one eyebrow raised. One arm wound itself around my neck, and I leaned into her. "Are you spending all day long with Finn?"

What sort of question was that? Of course I was spending all day with Finn, otherwise he wouldn't have any company when Carole was at work. Plus, I didn't want him out of my sight for even a minute. That man, the one who had taken him the first time, was still out there, and no one seemed to know where. "Yes."

"Baby, that's not good. I know you love him, and you want him to be safe, but you can't do this to yourself. It's wearing you down."

"No, it isn't." I'm never sure why I try and argue with Mercedes. "It's fine, Finn's fine, I'm fine. Just drop it Mercedes."

"None of those things are true. Finn isn't fine and even a blind man could see it, so don't pretend that he is. This situation isn't fine, because it's so messed up. And, Kurt? You aren't fine either. I know you love Finn, but you aren't his caretaker. If he really needs 24 hour supervision, then a professional needs to be the one doing it."

She was just trying to help, but she didn't understand at all. I _had_ to take care of Finn, because I owed him, plain and simple. If it hadn't have been for me, Carole would have never let him leave the house that night, so I was the one who had driven him from the house that night and right into his kidnappers arms. "He doesn't need a professional, he needs his family!" My voice was low, so as not to alert Tina and Finn, but I still felt like I was screaming. "He just needs a little time, then everything can go back to normal."

I had no idea why I kept insisting that, since even I didn't believe it, but I did. "He's really no trouble at all, anyway. Mostly we just watch a few movies and hang around, then Carole comes home and he goes with her. It's not like he needs me to do anything for him except make lunch and he could probably do that on his own. I just don't want him eating a half dozen Twinkies and calling it good."

Her look was so full of pity that it was painful. "Kurt, I'm only saying this because I love you, and please don't take it the wrong way, but have you considered some therapy for the rest of the family? Finn's suffered the most, no one's saying that he hasn't, but the rest of you are suffering, too. You're planning your life around his, and that just isn't healthy."

"I'm not. It's only been a few days, Mercedes, I think that I can give him that much." She and I had never fought like this before and my stomach clenched at the thought that I might lose her tonight. But Finn came first. He had to, right?

"There've been three sales in the past week, and you haven't gone to any of them. If Finn really doesn't need that much, then it should be fine for you to come out for a few hours."

She had me trapped and we both knew it. Her fingers stroked through my hair. "Please, Kurt. It's not that I don't think you should help Finn, but you can't make yourself sick doing it. You have so many other people who love Finn, and would be willing to help out if you would just ask for it. He already trusts you, but he needs to know that it's still ok to trust the rest of us, that we won't hurt him. He'll never try if you're always right there"

I held my breath for a few seconds, just so I wouldn't start crying. She was right, of course. Finn was starting to become dependant on me to keep him safe and interpret his gestures, and that wasn't a good thing. "It's just too soon. You and Tina are the first people he's seen outside the family, and even though it's going well, it's hard to tell with Finn. Dad yelled at the TV two nights ago and Finn wouldn't come out from the basement for the rest of the night. It took two hours for Carole to even get him out from underneath the covers. Finn wasn't even sitting in the living room to start with; he was in the kitchen with me." I decided not to mention the fact that Carole had only been able to pry the covers out from his grip because she sat with him long enough, singing lullabies and rubbing his back through the heavy comforter, that he fell asleep. I shared all of my secrets with Mercedes, but that didn't give me permission to share all of Finn's.

"It's not going to help anyone, including Finn, if you have a nervous breakdown." She was backing off and I could tell. "Just know that it's alright to ask for help. Tina and Finn are doing just fine together; she could play games with him for a few hours. I mean, you would just be a phone call away."

I shook my head, even though I wanted nothing more then to have Finn be someone else's responsibility for a while. In my heart, buried down so deeply I had trouble acknowledging that it was even there, I did kind of resent Finn at the moment. He was getting 99% of Carole's attention, and at least 80% of my fathers, which was rich, considering that Finn had made it abundantly clear that he wished the man would burn in the deepest pit of Hell. Shit, he was even getting about 90% of my attention these days, to the point where I had missed sales for him.

And did he care? No. Sure, he seemed happy enough, contented to have someone to sit with, and make him lunch. But did he care that it was me, and about the sacrifices I was making to toast him a grilled cheese sandwich? Hardly. With all of the love and attention he was getting, he should have been better by now. Maybe not talking, but at least making noises or writing consistently. Doing something to communicate his needs, since all of us jumped any time he indicated wanting something. He should act less like he was trapped in his own world, and more like he had rejoined us in ours.

_And there's a danger in loving somebody too much_

_And it's sad when you know it's your heart you can't trust_

_There's a reason why people don't stay who they are_

_Baby, sometimes, love just aint enough…_

The words were sung softly and mockingly in the back of my brain, making me wonder where that song had even come from. The melody was kind of familiar, but I couldn't recall having ever heard the words before. Still, it had the desired effect of making me feel ashamed of myself. Whatever Finn had suffered, I would guarantee that it was worse then missing a few sales.

"Let's see how the rest of tonight goes, and we'll go from there." Even though I wanted to, I could never express any of my resentments or doubts to Mercedes. For four months, I had prayed to get Finn back, and now I was complaining? It didn't exactly reflect well on me.

"Ok. You know that I'm here for you, for both of you, but mostly you, whenever you need me right?" She squeezed my shoulders and I nodded.

_See, someone loves you best, Kurt. You're more important to Mercedes then Finn is, and, honestly, I'm not seeing anything she said that's wrong. What happened to Finn isn't your fault, and everyone but you knows it. Also? A little therapy wouldn't hurt you. Finn's going, Carole goes, it might help you and your father, too._

That was something to think about later. "Thanks, Mercedes."

"No problem. Now, it's almost time for me to take Tina to her appointment, but we'll be back in a few hours. You're sure that this is alright with your parents?" 

"They're both at work, but I'm sure it'll be fine. Anything to make Finn happy." I was proud of the fact that my voice neither shook nor sounded resentful.

"We'll call when we're ready then and we can discuss pizza toppings. Am I correct in assuming that Finn will eat anything that isn't running away from him?"

"Pretty much. Oh, no, wait, he won't eat…." Come on, think. "Peppers. He won't eat green peppers."

"Ok, we'll call. Is there anything else that I can pick up for you two? Anything at all?"

Not unless she could give Finn a brain transplant so he started acting more normal. "I don't think so. Thank you for offering, though."

She patted me one more time and stood up. "Things will get better. Maybe not great, and maybe not like they were, but they'll get better, I promise."

_I'll be home around 1 to watch a movie with you Kurt, I promise. Seems to me that promises are made to be broken. But maybe things don't need to be like they were. Maybe they can be better._

I shivered slightly at that thought, but put on my happy face for Mercedes. "Give me a call."

She went upstairs, calling for Tina, and shouting a goodbye to Finn. I cleaned up the manicure supplies, waiting for my shadow to reappear. Sure enough, he was back within a minute, sitting down on the bed and looking at me curiously.

My resentment boiled up. "What? I'm not your entertainment." The words came out harsher then I had intended them to, and Finn flinched.

I sighed. "I'm sorry, Finn, I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just…I guess I'm not sleeping very well, either and it's making me cranky."

He nodded, his face a mask of sympathy. Then he picked up the video game off the bed and shook it at me, telling me that he was going to go upstairs and play, and I could stay downstairs until my tantrum was over. Well, I may have added that last part on myself, but he was probably thinking it.

For the past week and a half, Finn had been almost constantly in someone's sight, usually mine. It was odd not to look over and see him sitting there; waiting for something I had no idea how to give him.

Still, the privacy was nice, and I took a long shower, running out all the hot water and not caring. Dad and Carole wouldn't be home until much later, and Finn had already taken his shower. It was nice to be able to do all of the routines that I had been neglecting recently. By the time I finished and bounced out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, nearly two hours had passed and I was feeling much better. I did my face, then slipped on a clean pair of pajama pants and an old T-shirt of my fathers. I would dress up when the girls came back.

Finn was still enthralled with his video game, but he did look over and point to the coffee table. I looked, and found a sandwich sitting on a plate. No mayo, sensible amount of meat, plenty of heart healthy veggies… "Is this for me?"

He nodded and paused his game, going into the kitchen and returning with a glass of milk and some fruit. "Be still my heart. Finn Hudson, you actually do know how to put together a sandwich that doesn't cause an immediate cardiopulmonary event! Thank you."

His expression suggested that the words 'thank you' and 'sandwich' were the only part of that comment that he understood, but he smiled anyway. Then he was right back to playing his game, blowing things up and doing other masculine things.

I had to admit that Finn was doing a pretty good job of proving Mercedes' point, even if he didn't realize it. He could make his own lunch, and mine, too, and he didn't seem overly distressed about my long shower. In fact, he appeared perfectly happy. Maybe he didn't need me as much as I liked to think that he did.

"So, it was nice to see the girls, wasn't it?" A quick nod. "Mercedes said that Mr. Shue's been asking about you pretty much since you got back. Would you like him to come over and visit?"

This was actually something I was quite curious about. Was it all men that freaked Finn out now, or was there something about my father specifically? Finn was closer to Mr. Shue then he was to Dad (thank God, Dad has a son and he doesn't need another one right now), so maybe it would be alright.

Finn thought about that for a second, chewing on his lip and bombing a few enemy settlements or whatever they were. Then he nodded, though not as enthusiastically as I would have expected. I tried to help him out. "You don't have to if you don't want to. We can go at your pace."

His head shook once, and he went back to playing, but even I could tell that it wasn't the same. He played by rote, without the joy that had lifted him up just a few seconds ago. "So, should I tell him that tomorrow's ok?"

A disinterested shrug. Finn's eyes were downcast, like he expected something bad to happen, but there was a spark of hope in them, too. And the boy claimed that I gave off conflicting signals! At least he used to. "I'm going to call him now, so if it's not ok, you need to let me know."

He didn't even look up this time, so I shrugged and dialed the phone. It rang a few times, and as out of it as Finn was pretending to be, I knew that he was paying very close attention. For a minute, I thought I was going to have to leave a message, but then Mr. Shue picked up. "This is Will Shuester."

"Hi, Mr. Shue, it's Kurt." I made my voice be steady and calm, like I wasn't about to ask my teacher to be a guinea pig in my experiment to see whether or not Finn flipped out upon seeing him.

"Well, hello, Kurt, what can I do for you?" His voice relaxed, and I wondered who had had expected would be calling.

"Finn wants to see you, but he's having a little issue with leaving the house right now, so I was wondering if you would come over to visit tomorrow? Just for a little while." I was as close to pleading as I ever allowed myself to get with an adult.

"Of course. Can Finn come to the phone, or is he still not in the talking mood?"

The soft awkwardness of the question made me smile a little. He was trying so hard not to come out as nosy or accusing. "He's still not in the mood. But he's very eager to see you, so can I call you back a little later when we have more time to talk. Little rabbit and big ears if you get my drift." I was hoping that he would pick up on the fact that I didn't want to talk in front of Finn.

"Of course. I'll be home all evening, so you know where to reach me. Kurt, is this going to be ok?"

"I hope so." There wasn't much else for me to say, but I could at least hope. A hand nudged my arm and Finn made a few gestures that I couldn't understand. "Hang on a minute, Mr. Shue. What Finn?" 

More gestures and Finn was starting to look like he wanted to cry. "I don't understand, Cowboy." Had I really just slipped up and called him that? Why? I hadn't even called him that in my mind since he had disappeared.

"Look, Mr. Shue, I have to go. Finn needs something and I can't figure out what it is. I'll call you tomorrow morning."

_This_ was why I didn't want to leave Finn with someone else. I was used to his needs, and even I couldn't figure out what he wanted right now. I fought the urge to shake him and snap 'talk!' "Can you just write it?"

He blew out a breath that was really just a puff of air and turned back towards the kitchen, finding a sharpie and a piece of paper, his hands shaking as he scrawled a question. DOES HE HATE ME?

Of all the things I thought Finn might want, that hadn't been one of them. "Does he…Mr. Shue? Why would he hate you?" Though it did explain the worried look from earlier.

CUZ I FUCKED IT UP. WE LOST SECTIONLES BECUZ I WASNT THERE.

That broke my heart. Did Finn really feel guilty because he had gotten himself kidnapped and we had missed a singing competition? That didn't even register on the grand scale of things. "No, he doesn't hate you. He knows that you didn't want to go, and there's always next year, right?" I wished the Carole was here to explain this to Finn, or actually that anyone besides me was here to do it. Finn was the people person, the one who knew how to make things ok. I just didn't have the people skills that he did.

_But you do love him. All he wants right now if for someone to tell him that it's not his fault that the Glee Club got screwed. It's nothing to you, but everything to him. He needs to know no one blames him for anything. Everything about his disappearance is confusing for him right now, and he doesn't know what to do. _

"None of what happened was your fault, ok? Mr. Shue doesn't hate you and neither does anyone else." My voice was shaking now, and I knew that he was reading more about me then I wanted him to.

Then the moment was over and Finn was back to his normal self. He picked the paper up and took it away, acting like he had never been worried at all. He always took the paper he had written on with him, then shredded it and either tossed it or flushed it down the toilet. It was like he couldn't stand for any of us to know that he could still write or even communicate at all.

Finn didn't come back, and when I peeked in on him, he was lying quietly on the bed, though not asleep. When he was asleep, he wasn't that still, though he was every bit as silent. I left him to it, figuring that he would either get up when Mercedes and Tina came back or he wouldn't, but I didn't have the energy to fight with him about it.

While I was waiting for something, anything to happen, I googled melatonin to see if it could do what Tina claimed it could. It certainly sounded promising, and it was all natural, so I didn't have to worry about what sort of side effects it might cause.

_Napalm is natural, too. But go ahead and try. It won't hurt him, and God knows neither one of you can take too many more nights of broken sleep._

Once again, I chose to ignore that voice and called Carole instead. She answered on the first ring, even though I'm pretty sure that she isn't supposed to carry a cell phone when she's on duty. "What's wrong?"

I felt a little guilty when I realized that I had probably scared her by calling in the middle of the day. "Nothing. We had a good visit with Tina and Mercedes and Finn's lying down right now. I just wanted to let you know that the girls are coming back over, and they're bringing a pizza, so you and Dad don't have to worry about dinner. Maybe you two could go on a date or something."

She was very quiet, and I wondered what she was thinking. "Do you think it will be alright?"

"I hope you mean that you're worried about Finn's reactions, rather then my ability to act like a reasonable adult when having friends over, whether or not I have supervision."

I could almost hear her smile through the phone. "I worry about both. You're a very mature young man, but I remember what it's like to be 17. Foolish choices get made all the time. But, as long as it's just Mercedes and Tina, and you agree to call me if anything, and I mean _anything _starts to get out of hand, then I guess it's alright with me. Your father and I need a little break. But, Kurt? I'm trusting you to take care of Finn, here, please don't let me down."

It felt strange, the amount of trust that she was putting in me. Sure, Dad trusted me to behave myself, but Carole was trusting me with Finn, and being allowed to take care of another person was a whole different ballgame. "I won't. I'm sure Finn will be fine as long as you're home to tell him goodnight. He and Tina like the same sort of video games, so he probably won't even notice you're gone." 

She laughed, and it was progress, even if it was a strange, brittle, sound. "He does tend to go a little deaf when he's playing. The two of you have my permission to have guests, and I'll take care of your father."

"Thank you, Carole. I…I love you." I rushed the words out as quickly as I could, before I could wuss out.

"I love you too, baby. We won't be out too late, and please call us if there are any problems."

She was calling me by pet names again, and I was embarrassed that I responded like a wiggly little puppy that was eager for a treat. "I will."

Finn was still quiet down in the basement, so I wasted some time playing around on the internet, studying various fashion collections and chatting with Mercedes online. Finally, he appeared, looking perfectly normal, as if he might start telling me all about football at any moment. "Hey."

For a minute, I thought that he might say something back, just like I always did when I first saw Finn, but he didn't. He just leaned over my shoulder so he could see the screen and made a face at the more outlandish choices. "Don't knock it just because you can't match yourself. This is high fashion, Finn."

He pointed at the price, then rolled his eyes. "Quality costs."

One eyebrow quirked, as if he didn't quite believe me, but there was no way for me to explain why anyone would want to wear pants that were barely held together by safety pins and consisted more of strategically placed holes then material. You either got it or you didn't. The pants also came with an $1800 price tag, which nearly gave Finn some sort of epileptic fit.

Luckily, the phone rang before I drove us both into complete frustration by trying to elucidate the differences between the different fabrics, and why exactly having a name, or even a few letters, on the label made all the difference. Tina's voice crackled over the line. "Are we still good for tonight?"

I looked over at Finn, who was still studying the computer with a dumbfounded look on his face. "Tina wants to know if we're still on."

He nodded distractedly. "We are. The background noise leads me to believe that you're getting pizza right now?"

"I am. Do you have cokes at the house, or should I get some of those, too?"

"We have soda. We have more soda then any five families need, thanks to Finn and Dad." There was no nutritional value in soda, and it destroyed your bones. But Finn would drink it without a fight, and we were doing everything possible to make things easy on him.

"Ok, tell him that we're on our way!"

I relayed the message back to Finn, who bounced up and into the living room so he could set the gaming system up. By the time the girls got there, he was ready. Tina gave him another hug, which he sank into gratefully. She held up the pizza and a small green bottle. "This is the melatonin; take it 20 minutes before bed, no sooner. Kurt is too little to carry you off to bed."

The bottle was passed over to me, and I put it on top of the fridge. "Thank you, Tina, if this works it will help us both quite a bit. Finn." I nudged him sharply and he signed a quick 'thank you' of his own.

We all grabbed slices, and settled in the living room, Mercedes and I on the couch, Finn and Tina in front of the X-box. They started a game between bites, and lost touch with reality shortly thereafter. Mercedes and I watched for a while, but it quickly became clear that we shouldn't expect to so much as be acknowledged, so we retreated back downstairs to gossip.

I was still blotting my pizza when Mercedes started. "So, how did the rest of the afternoon go? Did he hold it together?"

"Kind of. He made me lunch, which was sweet, and he played games for a while by himself. But then he went downstairs and just laid there, so I think he was more stressed out then he wanted to let me know."

"Everyone keeps asking me about him, but I don't know what to say." She sipped her diet coke.

"You and everyone else. Mr. Shue's going to come by tomorrow, and if it goes well, maybe we can try easing him back into Glee stuff. It's going to be really hard for him, but it's going to be worse if we just throw him into school without it." I tried to sound more confident then I felt.

"He's going to get better, right? I mean, he won't be like this forever?" She was asking the questions that I was afraid to.

"He'll get better." My voice was unusually soft, and I knew that she was reading the lie. "He's better now then he was a week ago, and this therapist will work for him. It has to." Otherwise I didn't know what our family was going to do.

My pizza suddenly looked less appealing then ever. "Can we not talk about Finn right now? It's…it's just too much."

"Of course." That was the nice thing about Mercedes. She knew when to just let it go. "At least we should be grateful that Rachel's fathers decided to have her join them in France. It's so much quieter at Glee get togethers right now."

Glee get togethers that I wasn't going to, but desperately wanted to present at. "I'll bet that they aren't shopping at all."

"Probably not. I mean, I don't know that you can even find sweaters with animals on them in Paris." She was teasing me now, and it felt good.

"I'm sure Rachel Berry could manage." If there was one hideous outfit in all of France, she would zero in on it.

"So, did you hear about Santana and Brit? Coach Sylvester caught them screwing around in the locker room, and made them run laps naked for punishment. Jacob Ben Israel about had a stroke." 

If Finn had known that that was happening, I might have been able to get him out of the house. Actually, I probably wouldn't have been able to catch him as he was speeding towards the school.

_You aren't supposed to be thinking about Finn. _

I was always thinking about Finn. Still, I pushed him to the back of my mind, talking instead about the upcoming year and what I was going to wear the first day of school and whether or not I was going back to the Cheerios. It felt strange to have it be all about me for once. Strange, but good.

Time flew, and, suddenly, Tina was at the top of the stairs, telling us that she needed to leave if she was going to get home by curfew. I couldn't believe that over 5 hours had passed, and I hadn't so much as thought about Finn. Guilt bubbled up in my chest, but, when Finn appeared behind Tina, he certainly didn't look like he had suffered for lack of attention. In fact, he was flushed and delighted looking, just like he got when he used to play with Puck.

"Ok, ok." Mercedes stood up and gave me a hug. "Remember what I told you, and you will be shopping with us next week. Finn is welcome to come along." Her voice was too soft to carry up the stairs.

Tina raced down the steps to give me a kiss. "Bye, Kurt, I had a blast!" I hugged her tightly, trying to thank her for everything she had done for Finn today.

On her way out, she gave Finn a hug and kiss also. "Rematch?" He nodded and squeezed her gently, which made me feel a little bit jealous. He seemed as happy with her as he was with me, and _Tina_ wasn't the one almost breaking her neck in the mornings because he didn't properly clean the bathroom floor.

We both saw the girls off, even though Finn was very careful not to step over the doorway. He waved happily to them, even though I could see him trying to cover a yawn. I raised an eyebrow. "Tired?"

He nodded. "Ok, let's see how these pills are supposed to work" I scooped the bottle up and read it quickly. "Just one? Ok, I guess." I warmed some milk in the microwave, which always helped me calm down. "Take and drink, then go lay down."

If he's not good at anything else (other then singing, picking terrible girlfriends and turning me on), Finn is good at following instructions. "I'm going to clean up here, then I'll come down."

It took more then a half hour to clean, 25 minutes of that in the living room. God, how had Finn and Tina made such a mess when they were supposed to be focused on the television? His terrible habits must rub off.

I wasn't tired yet, and when I looked downstairs, Finn was asleep, so I stretched out on the living room couch and watched a few episodes of La Femme Nikita, one of my guilty pleasures. Finn would probably be thrilled to watch with me, considering that there were plenty of shootouts and scantily clad women, but this was something I did alone.

By the time the last episode finished, it was nearly 2 in the morning and I was falling asleep on the couch. Much to my surprise, Finn hadn't made his nightly trek upstairs. Sure enough, when I went downstairs, he was still asleep, breathing steady and deep. Whatever was in those pills, it had worked.

I kept one eye on him while I undressed; noticing that he seemed more relaxed in general. Usually he curled up into a tight ball, twitching and jerking at the smallest noise. Now he was sprawled out on his stomach, snoring softly.

It usually took a while for me to fall asleep, so I was still awake when Finn did something I never thought he would. He whined, soft and restless, rolling from side to side and kicking the covers away. Then he talked. "Stop." The fear in his voice caused a shiver to run up and down my spine. "No, don't. Don't!" The last one was almost a yell.

I waited, trembling under the covers, but he just rolled over and went back to sleep, his breathing growing even again almost immediately. Looking over at him in the dark, I wondered if we had ever really gotten Finn back at all, or if the biggest part of him was still lost somewhere in New Mexico.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Healing takes courage, and we all have courage, even if we have to dig a little to find it.**__**  
**__**Tori Amos**_

The next morning, Finn didn't show any signs that he even remembered having a restless night; much less that he had been traumatized by it. Actually, he seemed happier then I had seen him yet. Having almost 10 uninterrupted hours of sleep had done him a world of good, and he was being very sweet, at least to Carole and me. Dad was already gone, something at always put Finn in a better humor, and he happily helped Carole make pancakes.

Normally, I would have turned the pancakes down, especially since I had eaten that horrendously fattening pizza the night before, but Finn was decorating his to look like Mickey Mouse, not only with the ears, but with artfully arranged chocolate chips to darken the right parts. Carole was reminding him to stop before there was more chocolate then pancake, and he was flipping his free hand at her in a 'yeah, yeah, yeah,' gesture. They looked close, like a perfect mother and son pair, and I wanted desperately to be part of that. So I held out my plate and swore that I would run later today.

Finn pulled his chair around to settle next to me at the table, instead of taking his usual place across. I wondered what he meant when he did that, if anything. It was hard to tell, considering that he w as more interested in drowning his pancakes in maple syrup then he was in acknowledging that I was there, eating with him.

"So, what are your plans for today?" Carole never stopped talking to Finn, even though he had yet to show her that he could talk back. I wondered if I should tell her about last night or not.

"Mr. Shue is coming over later to see Finn, then I don't know. Maybe we'll go to the park."

That earned me an incredulous look from both Finn and his mother. We all knew that Finn wouldn't leave the house. I tried to make it sound like a perfectly natural thing. "Finnegan, you're about to grow mold being in this house all day every day. It will be fun."

He shrugged and went back to breakfast, wolfing it down in big bites. "You don't have to if you don't want to, Sweetie." Carole sounded nervous.

Watching them, I realized that this was exactly what Mercedes had been trying to tell me last night. Finn didn't leave the house, because he didn't have to. We loved him, yes, but we were stunting him at the same time. The more we fawned, and told him that it was alright, and babied him, the more we told him that we knew he couldn't do it on his own. I poked him under the table. "Yes you do. We'll go to the park that has the ice cream truck and you can get something filled with dye and empty sugar, but you're going Finn Hudson. Then we're off to the bookstore to get a few things, and you and I are going to work on your school work. You need to buck up, or you're going to repeat the year."

His eyes cut in my direction and he smiled slightly. It was a cute smile, a gentle one. Then he nodded. "Good, we're on the same page. I will be choosing your outfit for the day, because I refuse to be seen with you in public looking like Abercrombie and Fitch threw you up."

Carole looked suitably impressed with me. "Ok, then. Kurt, I'll leave some money for both of you. And Finn? You have my credit card for books and only books. That does not include comics or anything from the café, got it?"

He held up two fingers in a 'scouts honor' gesture. She snorted. "Uh-huh. Kurt, watch him. I'll have my cell on if you need me."

"We won't." I had to sound perfectly confident, and hopefully Finn would draw courage from it.

"Alright then. I expect both of you back by 4, because I work the short shift today and I'm making dinner. Finn, dishes. And just tossing them in the dishwasher doesn't make them clean. They have to be rinsed first." She came over and kissed the top of his head, then paused and kissed mine, too. "You boys have fun."

She was anxious, I could tell, but she must have known that Finn would be safe in my care. Finn stood and gave her a kiss, which was a little sloppy with syrup, but appreciated none the less. "I'll see you tonight. Do not fill up on junk food."

Finn smiled and waved as she went out the door, keeping a happy face even though I could tell he was getting progressively more nervous. "Mr. Shue should be here soon, so go get dressed." 

He pulled lightly at his oversized T-shirt, then gave me a long look. "What, you can't dress yourself? Well, obviously you can't dress yourself, but that hasn't changed in the past 15 years or so."

That made him smile, and he backed up a few feet so we could play charades. His good mood was contagious, and I found myself laughing. "How many words?"

Six fingers flashed. Then he pointed at me. "I". He nodded quickly, then made a rapid 'yap yap yap' gesture by his mouth. "I said." Another nod, and he pointed at me again. "I said I." Then it hit me without further motions. "I said that I would dress you because you suck at dressing yourself. Ok, you do the dishes, and I'll pick out an outfit. Move quick, he'll be here in less then 10 minutes." He glared at me and I shrugged. "It's not my fault that you slept too late this morning."

He gathered up the dishes and started putting them right in the dishwasher, despite Carole having told him not to do that. My father is always telling me to pick my battles, and this wasn't one that I was willing to fight. "I'll be in the basement, come down when you're finished."

Finn's wardrobe was atrocious, but I managed to find a pair of jeans and a shirt that actually looked good on him. I set them on the bed and turned around, nearly slamming in to Finn, who had silently appeared behind me. He looked at the clothes and shook his head. "What's wrong with them? This is the best your wardrobe had to offer."

He pointed at the shirt, then held his hands out so I could see his wrists and the all too obvious bruising. Even though they weren't broken or even sprained, the bruising ran deep, and it would be a while before it would vanish entirely. "Ok, long sleeves then."

Luckily, Finn had more long sleeved shirts then short sleeved ones, and I was able to find two that were alright. "Pick one and let's go."

He had barely stepped towards the bed when the doorbell rang. I pushed his back. "Go, I'll keep him distracted."

Mr. Shue looked comically out of place on our front porch. He kept wringing his hands and easing from foot to foot. I opened the door. "Hi." My voice was doing that worried thing where it got all soft, despite my efforts to project it.

"Hi, Kurt." His smile put me at ease, at least a little. He was nervous, too, and if the adults were all nervous, it meant that I wasn't the only one in over my head. "Is he…"

"He's getting dressed. Sorry, we all kind of overslept this morning. Um, please come in." It felt different to have him over at my place, as opposed to me being at his. I stepped back so he could come inside, but he didn't move.

"Actually, I kind of brought him a little present, if that's alright. I left it in the car, in case his mother didn't agree with me giving it to him, but I guess she isn't here and-"

I cut him off before he could babble himself out. "I'm sure Carole will be fine with it. Anything from a friend, right?" The next part was hard to say, but I had to. "Look, you know he might freak out on you, right? I mean, he acts like Dad is some sort of serial killer and I don't know it its Dad personally or men or adults he doesn't know well or what. Just don't be surprised if he acts up."

His smile became more gentle. "Of course. I talked to Carole last night, so I understand how he might act. I'll get his present."

He made it back to his car, pulling out a large shopping bag, and was halfway back before I heard what sounded like a small herd of elephants come barreling up the stairs. It was a good thing that I managed to turn slightly, because Finn raced by me as if he had never been afraid to leave the house at all, leaping down the five porch steps like they were nothing.

It took my breath away to watch him race across the lawn and throw himself into Mr. Shue's arms. For a second, I thought we had gone back in time, and Finn would start chattering away about what song he wanted to try next.

That didn't happen, of course. Mr. She squeezed Finn tightly, letting the bag drop to the ground, and Finn squeezed back just as fiercely. The only talking came from the teacher, soft muttered words, and I felt like some sort of Peeping Tom, looking in where I wasn't wanted or needed. "I'll be inside when you two are finished."

Apparently I have more Peeping Tom in me then I like to admit, because I totally peeked out the blinds. There wasn't much to see, though. Finn had his head dropped down to Mr. Shuester's chest, while the teacher kept his arms wound tightly around Finn's broad back. After a few minutes, he rested his chin on Finn's shoulder, and, even at the distance, I could see the tears in his eyes.

They stayed like that for a few more minutes, then Mr. Shue gave Finn a nudge and gestured towards the house. Finn nodded, but didn't move until Mr. Shue did, remaining so close to his teachers side that he might as well have been fused there.

They were both inside before Finn noticed and gestured to the bag at Mr. Shue's feet. "Oh, these are for you. Except for the envelope, that's for Kurt."

My ears perked at the thought that he might have gotten me something as well, but I didn't let my hopes get too high. First, Mr. Shue pulled out a stuffed lion, which he handed over to Finn, who gave him a goofy grin and reached out to cuddle it. "I know this is a little childish, but I saw him and I thought that you've been as brave as a lion so far, and you deserved something to show that."

Finn tucked the plush under one arm, then signed a heartfelt 'thank you.' I started to interpret, but Mr. Shue didn't need me to. "Oh, are you learning sign now?"

I liked that he addressed Finn directly, and in a way that my new brother had an actual chance of answering, instead of talking to me and just pretending he was talking to Finn. The dark head shook once.

_ That's what you think, Finn. You don't want to talk, fine, but that's no excuse for refusing to communicate at all. If you don't want to do it the easy way and use your voice, there's always the hard way. _

Finn pointed at the bag again and Mr. Shue pulled out the mother lode. There must have been a dozen boxes of Sour Patch Kids, something that made Finn's face light up. He lunged for them, and Mr. Shue pulled them back, his eyes crinkling with his teasing smile. "Do not eat all of these tonight, because I do not want your mother calling and telling me how sick you are. Promise?"

Finn thought for a minute, the mental wheels almost visibly, then shook his head quickly, that sassy grin lighting his face again. Unbelievable. Not only was Finn not freaking out at the sight of Mr. Shue, he was actually teasing and playing with him. Maybe he was tougher then any of us gave him credit for.

_Or maybe Mr. Shuester isn't what frightens him. I would start thinking real hard about the traits that your father has that Mr. Shue doesn't. There's something, and Finn obviously isn't going to tell what it is._

While I was lost in my thoughts, the pair in front of me seemed to have come to some sort of agreement, because now Finn had the candy. He eased the package open and offered it to each of us. I declined, but Mr. Shue took a handful. "And this is for Kurt." He pulled out a thin envelope.

"You didn't have to get me anything." I was really touched by the gesture though.

He smiled. "Yeah, I did. I know what it's like to get caught in the shuffle, Kurt, and to feel forgotten."

"Thank you." I opened the seal with trembling hands to reveal a gift certificate to the spa two towns over. My mouth dropped open. Somehow, Mr. Shue, who didn't look like he had ever seen the inside of a spa in his life, had found the perfect gift. I was too overwhelmed to speak, but he seemed to get it anyway. "I had to call around, but someone told me that this would be perfect for you."

I was willing to be that that someone would be Mercedes. "Thank you, Mr. Shue, this _is_ perfect."

He visibly relaxed. "I wanted to get you something more personal, but there were so many different things, and I had no idea which ones you might like. So I just picked a general one."

Finn leaned over my shoulder, eager to see what I had gotten. He read swiftly, then snorted. Obviously, he considered his gifts far superior to mine. "No, this is great. As soon as Carole has a day off and can stay with Finn, I'm going."

"Well, Finn can always come spend the day over at my place if he likes. Now that Terri's moved out, it's a bachelor pad again. What do you say, Finn, greasy take out and action movies?"

Even I had to admit that that sounded like the Finn Hudson version of heaven. Sure enough, my new brother (and old crush. Well, not so old crush. Ok, current crush.) looked like he was in ecstasy. "If Carole approves, I'm sure he'd like that."

The issue would be getting Carole to approve. There were exactly two people she trusted with Finn these days, and that would be me and her. It wasn't that _she_ didn't trust Dad, but Finn didn't, and that meant that they couldn't be alone together. Period. It was unclear how she expected to fix the problem, so right now we were all going to just pretend that it wasn't happening and that we were one big happy family.

"Both of you have my number, so she can feel free to call at any time. It shouldn't be an issue, though, should it? I mean, she's allowed you to come over multiple times alone."

Kind of. I was allowed to go over there when I was with the rest of the group, or even one other person, but Dad was very clear that I was never to be in Mr. Shuester's apartment alone, for any reason at all. He just didn't trust a man who would willingly have a teenage student of either gender over. It was hard, if not impossible for me to explain that it wasn't creepy like that, that Mr. Shue was really a good guy. He at least tried to help us, even if all his advice did sometimes was make things worse. Carole had been less judgmental, but I was Dad's kid and his word was law. I wondered if she would feel different since it was Finn.

When it came right down to it, I would sometimes lie to both Dad and Carole, and go over there by myself. It was nice to just have a place to sit and relax, without having to look at all of Finn's things or put on my happy face for Carole. Mr. Shue would make a meal, but otherwise leave me alone, unless I actively indicated wanting company. I never did, though. So he would grade papers or put together things for Glee and I would sit in the same room and read or do homework. I liked being close to him, I just didn't like having to talk to him, especially not about anything to do with Finn being gone.

Once I had had a chance to calm down and recenter myself, I would go home, and make up a lie about how the impromptu Glee practice, the one everyone had been required to attend, had gone, always making sure to tell Dad about what I had sung. Sometimes I would tell Carole all about what Mercedes and I had seen on our imaginary trip to the mall. Neither one ever bothered checking up on my stories. Why would they? I was a good kid, trustworthy, and, most importantly, not the special one. Really, I understood. There was only so much attention to go around, and getting Finn home required most of it. It was just that I had kind of hoped that things would be different once he was here. You know, that I would start getting some attention again, too.

_Selfish._

I didn't think that it was so selfish to want attention from my own family, especially since Dad was _my_ father, not Finn's.

"Ah-hah. Can I guess that you haven't exactly been honest about where you've been all those times you came over to my place."

"That wouldn't be untrue." I gave him a guilty look, wondering if he was about to tell Dad what I had been up to.

Finn whistled through his teeth, causing both of us to jump. Sometimes it was hard for me to remember that he was even there these days. The way things had been before, he couldn't last three seconds without making some sort of sound, whether it was talking, fooling around with something electronic, or just knocking something over. Now hours could pass before he would try and draw the slightest attention to himself.

When I looked over at him, he held up his hand for a high five. Apparently pulling off a successful lie to ones parents was something to celebrate, at least in Finn's world. I actually felt bad when I lied to them, but I slapped his hand anyway. Mr. Shue rolled his eyes. "I'm going to pretend that I didn't see or hear that."

The three of us sat together for almost an hour, with Mr. Shue and I talking about our plans for next year and Finn making gestures that didn't seem to mean much, but had them both laughing. Finn, naturally, didn't make a single sound, though I now knew that he could if he felt like it.

What I still didn't know was _why_. Finn wanted to communicate with us, if his gestures and occasionally written words were anything to go by, so why wouldn't he just _talk_?

For once, my obsessive nature and determination to know absolutely everything about a given subject had paid off, and I knew more about teenagers who refused to talk then most people ever would. There were multiple theories, most of which contradicted each other, but two kept resurfacing: trauma and control.

If it was trauma, Finn was too scared to talk. Either he had been threatened, or he was afraid that it he opened his mouth, no matter what he intended to say, that he would blurt out everything that had happened to him, everything that he was trying to keep a secret.

I was leaning more towards it being a control issue. Over the past few months, everything had spiraled out of control for Finn. He had been taken somewhere he didn't want to be and forced to do things that he didn't want to do. Then he was drug back to Lima, put through a humiliating medical exam, and thrown back into his old life.

Except it wasn't his old life at all. It wasn't his old bedroom, or his old house, or even his old family. Everything was new and different to him and he hadn't been able to control any of the changes in his life.

But he could control his own body. That was what the issue with refusing our meals was, too. None of us could force him to eat, and none of us could force him to talk, no matter what we tried. Those two things were completely his, and he was exploiting that for all it was worth. It was a last desperate attempt to cling to his sense of self.

That made me sympathetic (well, most of the time. And the times I wasn't being sympathetic to him, I was probably being a jerk.), but it didn't give me a very clear idea of what to do about it. The only thing that the websites I had visited and books I had read seemed to agree on was that it was important not to let Finn shut us out entirely, and to keep him communicating on at least a basic level. If he wouldn't communicate at all, it was a sign of a much deeper mental problem.

Luckily, that didn't seem to be the case with Finn. He was delighted to have people to communicate with, as his behavior towards first Mecedes and Tina, then Mr. Shue showed. I wondered if anyone had bothered to communicate with him in the four months he had been away.

"Journey? Finn, you're a genius!" Mr. Shue slapped the big shoulder and I held my breath, waiting to see if Finn would react. "We started that way last year, and it will be the perfect start to next year, too. Are you still going to be a part of the club?"

Finn nodded, then shook his head, then nodded again. For the first time since Mr. Shue had arrived, he looked confused. The both looked at me, but I had no idea what the problem was either, so I shrugged. "What?"

His jaw worked rapidly, and for a minute I thought he was frustrated enough to speak. For a brief second, his mouth opened and he took a deep breath, but nothing came out. Then he shook his head softly and looked at the ground.

Mr. Shue stepped in. "It's alright, Finn. You'll get it eventually."

The hurt look didn't quite leave Finn's eyes, but he smiled gamely and nodded. The fun had gone out of his face, though, and it hurt to see.

I tried to help out. "What did you guys mean by Journey? The group?"

They both nodded. "Finn thinks that a mashup of Journey songs would be a great start to the year. You know, start off the same way we did before."

I smiled. "That _is_ clever, Finn." His chest puffed with pride, the same way it always did when anyone paid him the smallest compliment. "It will be a renewal of sorts."

Neither of us brought up the fact that, even if Finn was there, we would still only have 11 members. That was a hurdle that could be jumped 5 months from now, when Sectionals rolled around again.

Mr. Shuester kept talking to Finn, but I noticed that he wasn't as good at it as Tina had been. His voice got too loud, as if Finn had lost the proper use of his ears, as opposed to just his voice. He also wasn't giving Finn enough time to even process what was being said, much less attempt to reply. I could tell that Finn was frustrated, but not if he was frustrated enough to want his teacher gone.

Eventually, though, we all ran out of things to talk about. It was hard to talk to Finn these days, because everything that we needed to talk about, everything important, was off limits. We couldn't talk about where he had been, who he had been with, Puck, his relationship with Dad, his relationship with me, anything. We weren't just walking on eggshells, we were walking on Faberge Eggs and I just knew I was going to break one sooner or later.

_And Finn can't talk at all. Just saying._

But there was nothing wrong with Finn other then fact that he was stubborn, was there? I mean, he could just open his mouth and say something. Or maybe he couldn't. Maybe the silence was under his control, maybe it wasn't. Maybe all of this was Finn's fault, maybe none of it was, maybe it was partially his and partially mine?

_You aren't even making sense to yourself now. Take a minute to think it through, ok?_

For once, that stupid voice had some good advice. Since neither Finn nor Mr. Shue were paying much attention to me, I closed my eyes and just thought about it all. Who deserved the blame for everything that had happened?

Finn had been out of the house the night he was taken, something that was usually not allowed when Dad and Carole weren't going to be home. Why had he been out? The memory had been so clear the entire time Finn was missing, but now I was having trouble remembering. I remembered him telling Carole that I was making him nervous, and begging to go out with Puck, but Carole was the one who had let him go. So maybe this was her fault instead? Or was it Puck's?

_Does it really matter why Finn was out? He was 16, it was a Friday night, and he was with a friend. The only thing that matters was that he was out. There was no way for you to stop him._

So the fact that Finn was with Puck that night was nobody's fault. I hadn't driven him from the house, and he hadn't gone out courting danger. Ok, that was good, no one's fault so far. So what was next?

Finn hadn't come home when he said that he would. He hadn't called, hadn't texted, nothing. But I had done everything I could have, right? I had called him, tried Puck, even called the hospitals. I hadn't called the police, though, nor had I called Dad or Carole. At the time it had seemed like a good idea, one brother covering for the other. It was only later that I realized what had happened. So that was my fault.

But I guessed that Finn could bear some fault there, too. When exactly had he gone missing? Had it been before he should have been home, or after? If he had pushed the curfew and stayed out too late, only to run into trouble, wasn't it his own fault? There was no way of knowing the truth about anything that had happened that night, except that Puck was dead and Finn wasn't.

_ Kurt, honey, that's a good thing. Finn's a little tired, a little bit broken, but he's still alive. He has a chance that Puck doesn't. _

A hand touched my shoulder unexpectedly, and I was barely able to keep from shrieking. My eyes flew open, only to see Finn's just a few inches away. His eyebrows raised, and he made a gestures that I chose to see as 'what's wrong?' "Nothing, Finn. I'm fine."

Then he made a new gesture. I watched in surprise as he crossed one arm over the other, resting his forearms together. Then he extended the pinky and pointer finger of one hand, then rapidly flashed the fingers of the opposite hand a few times. I had no idea what he was trying to say, but Mr. Shue apparently did, because he laughed. Since I wasn't likely to get a response out of Finn, I turned to him. "What's so funny?"

"If I remember correctly, I think Finn just called you out on your bullshit. Right Finn? Bullshit?" He repeated the gesture and Finn nodded.

"That's disgusting, Finn." Ok, it was kind of funny, but if Finn found out that I thought that, I would never live it down. "Where did you even learn that gesture?"

He smiled and shook his head. Still, I had a pretty good guess. "Tina?"

Another grin and a thumbs up. Then he gave me an expectant look, clearly still expecting an explanation. "I'm just a little tired, and I haven't had time to shower or anything, so I feel gross."

Mr. Shue nodded. "Please don't let me keep you from your plans. Finn, it was good to see you, and let me know if you want to come over any time."

"Actually, could you hang out while I get ready? I'm sure that Finn has things he would rather say to you, instead of the both of us. Finn, I'll be right downstairs." It worried me to leave him, but this was a test. If Finn could handle being left alone with another man, even if it was Mr. Shue, whom he knew and trusted, then maybe he would be able to get past everything. If he couldn't…..well, I was just going to assume he could.

"That would be fine. I have a date with Emma, but not until much later."

Finding out that his favorite teacher had a girlfriend (again, when were the two of them ever going to learn?), got Finn's attention and I decided to make my escape while he was distracted. Sure enough, he didn't even notice as I slipped from the room.

If there was something new that I was learning about Finn, though, it was that he might not be very bright, but he was as tenacious as a terrier. He would get the truth out of me about my worries, whether I wanted to tell him or not.

Getting my things together for the shower was automatic now, and I found my thoughts drifting back to the blame game. Ok, so I hadn't driven him out of the house, and, while it hadn't been the wisest choice to let him stay out all night without calling Dad or Carole, it probably didn't have much bearing on what had happened. What else was there to consider? Finn's mental state that night? Had he been careless because he was upset with me and everything that had happened? What about Puck's mental state? Had he led Finn into trouble, either inadvertently or on purpose? God knew, it wouldn't be the first time.

_Why are you so obsessed with this? It happened; all of you have to deal with it now. Why does it have to be anyone's fault? Sometimes bad things happen, and there's not one to blame for them._

But that couldn't be the case here. This time, someone had done something wrong, either Finn or I, or one of our parents, or Puck. The person who had taken Finn was wrong, but there had to be more to it then that.

Because if there wasn't more to it, if Finn and Puck were just random victims, then what had happened to them could happen to anyone. Mercedes, Tina, even me, and that just wasn't possible. Finn had barely survived what he had gone through, and there was no way I could have done it. It had to be more then chance that had put him out that night instead of me.

No, it was someone's fault; I just had to figure out whose. Anything else was just too horrible to contemplate.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Every stress leaves an indelible scar, and the organism pays for its survival after a stressful situation by becoming a little older.**__**  
**__**Hans Selye**_

Finn had held up admirably while I was in the shower. I would have almost gone as far as to say he hadn't even realized I was gone, but he was obviously glad to see me come back. He had somehow weaseled another box of Sour Patch Kids open and was busy sorting them into piles based on color, then splitting the piles again based on….well, I honestly wasn't sure what he was basing that on, and I had no way of asking. The tiny piles of candy, each only a few pieces big, underscored just how badly we needed to find a way for Finn to communicate, and made me feel terrible that I hadn't tried harder before now.

Mr. Shue was talking, telling him about his plans with Emma, something about the zoo, but his eyes were trained on the table, watching his favorite student and surrogate child fuss with his food. From my angle, I could see how tightly his hands were clenching each other under the table.

I was pretty sure that Before Finn had just crammed them in his mouth by the handful, with no regards to either color or his gag reflex. Now the sorting was tightly controlled, just like everything else Finn did these days. When he finally lost it, it wasn't going to be pretty.

Then I wondered if 'Before' would always have a capital letter in my mind from now on.

When Mr. Shue looked up and saw me standing there, he didn't even try to disguise the relief in his eyes. Not that I blamed him. Finn was kind of….wearing these days. He didn't mean to be, and it wasn't that he actually _did _anything to drive you crazy. It was more what he didn't do. Talk, laugh, cry, act like he even knew that you were there, that you would go to the moon and back for him if he would just ask. I would have put up with him screaming, with him calling me terrible names, even with him getting violent rather then that voodoo doll stare he had gotten so good at recently. It just got so tiring to sit there for hour after hour, talking to a brick wall.

And that was really what my life had become. Prattling on at Finn about anything I could think of that might possibly interest him, then anything else that I could think of. I knew that Finn didn't even know who Alexander McQueen was, much less why he should care about the mans latest (and final) collection, but I told him all about it anyway, just so I wouldn't scream from pure frustration.

I would have given up, except for the small flashes of the old Finn that I was still seeing. Like yesterday with Tina and Mercedes, or when he was trying to explain to me about the wedding rings. Or when he had first seen Mr. Shuester, and had leapt out of the house and run up to the man. Tiny little things that meant he was trying to reach out to us as hard as we were trying to reach out to him.

It was hard for anyone outside of the family (and sometimes I think it was hard for Dad, too) to see that, though, so I took pity on the man. "Finn, Mr. Shue needs to start getting ready for his date, and we need to get going for our errands. So say goodbye. By the way, Mr. Shue? I would recommend wearing the dark blue sweater. It brings out your eyes. Also? Lose about half the hair gel. Just saying."

A wry smile touched the corners of the man's mouth, and he actually nodded. "I will take both things under advisement, Kurt, thank you."

Finn signed his own thanks; making gestures to include both of his gifts, then gave a tiny, pathetic little wave. He walked Mr. Shue to the door, then stood there, watching as he drove away. He did the same thing when Carole left for work, or if I had to be out of his sight. It was like he was afraid that every time we left him, he would never see us again.

_Because that's never happened to Finn. Someone he loved has never just walked out of his life and never come back._

It had probably happened more times then I would ever know about. His Dad, Puck, his mother's boyfriends, friends, Finn had had a lot of upset in his life so far. I tugged on his shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll talk Carole into letting you spend the day in bachelor heaven. Now take that lion downstairs. Candy stays up here, otherwise you'll forget about it and we'll have ants."

I was putting my jacket on before I realized that my drivers license and credit cards were all still downstairs. "Hang on, I'm coming with you."

Finn put the lion on the foot of his bed, and I wondered if the fact that he deliberately turned it so it was facing the door was by choice, or an unconscious thing. It wasn't a cute little cartoon lion at all, it was realistic down to the fangs that barely peeked over the top lip. It looked tough, or at least tough enough to reassure a scared 17 year old boy who didn't know who might try and come into his room at night. "What are you going to call your new friend?"

Why did I even bother asking? It was just as likely that Finn wouldn't name it anything at all, and, even if he did, he wasn't about to tell me what he had chosen. But it was a new topic of conversation, something that could keep us occupied for a while.

He shrugged, and I started rattling off names as we climbed the stairs. "Whiskers? Kitty? Boots? Midnight? Shadow?" Those were all normal cat names, right? "Simba? Aslan? Leo?"

We were at the door now, and Finn stopped, giving me a nervous look. "It's alright, Finn. I'll be here with you, and nothing will happen, I promise."

He didn't budge. "You made it out before. Look, it's just a few steps to the car, then we'll be fine. Park, mall, home. Just two stops." I walked through the doorway myself, then extended a hand. "Come on, Finn, you can do it."

His fingers didn't even curl all the way about mine, just rested lightly against them. But he did step forward and over the threshold, his eyes closing like he expected something to come at him. His hand was icy cold. "That's it. Now, what about going fancy for a name? Vera, Armani, Gucci, Versace? Zebadiah? Clamydius?"

The last one earned me a shaky smile. Finn knew that I was trying to distract him until we were in the car, but at least he was playing along. "We could go with musical names, since Mr. Shue gave him to you. Journey, Queen, Pretender, Tenor, C-note."

Then we were at the Navigator and Finn dropped my hand to jump inside. Step one, which I had thought might be the hardest, had been accomplished. Finn was out of the house, and had made it to the car under his own power. The first step was the hardest, right? It would all flow from here.

Once he was actually in the seat, Finn released a long sigh and slumped backwards against the seat, going almost scarily boneless. It wasn't until right then, watching him shiver because his body was covered in cold sweat, that I realized what a scary place the world actually was for him. A few steps to me, miles and miles to him. Maybe we should skip the park and cut the mall visit short.

Finn gave me a tentative, grateful smile when I voiced that thought out loud, and it made my heart jump, just like always. Even if it sometimes took me a while to catch on, I understood Finn as well as anyone in the world.

"How about lunch? I'll even brave a drive thru so we can eat in the car." It would wreck havoc on my complexion, not to mention my thighs, but it would be worth it to see that smile again.

He shook his head and turned to stare blankly out of the window. He was mentally finished already, and just waiting for me to catch up. "Nothing? Alright, let me know if you change your mind." I tried to keep my voice upbeat, but I really wanted to just open the car door and let him back out.

_Nothing ventured, nothing gained. You were the one who kept insisting that Finn would be fine, so get out there and prove that he will._

With a sudden surge of courage, I put the car in gear. "We're going to the mall, just the bookstore, though. I already called them, and they have a book on beginning sign, which I think is on a level that we can both pick up quickly. Then back home." My voice was calm, at war with the rapid fluttering of my heart.

I was treated to another smile, but there was no humor in it. It was a smile that meant Finn was trying to make me happy, not that he was experiencing any pleasure himself.

I turned on the radio in an attempt to fill the heavy silence in the car, but Finn reached out and turned it back off. He didn't make even the tiniest noise, but I understood anyway. Sometimes, hearing the music, even the music you love, just ends up causing you more pain.

Still, it didn't take long for the silence in the car to grow first awkward, then completely suffocating. Finn had his face turned to the window, making it impossible to tell if he was feeling the same way. I took a deep breath and went back to the same topic I had been circling for the last hour. "I got it." He looked over for the first time, his eyes questioning me. "You have a stuffed dog named 'Kitty', right?" He nodded. "So, now you have a stuffed lion, so why don't we call it 'Wolf'? Right? So there's a dog named after a cat, and a cat named after a dog."

Now it was a genuine smile. Finn's lips actually formed the name, though of course he didn't say it. Then he nodded. I nodded back. "Wolf it is. Can I turn the radio back on now?"

He shrugged, which I was going to take as a yes. I wasn't a complete jerk, though, so I turned it to a station that wouldn't play anything too familiar to him. Finn gave no indication that he even noticed my gesture, but the tension in the car started to ease, little by little.

By the time we made it to Barnes and Noble, he seemed to be back in his usual good humor. I started to pull up to the entrance, but he pointed further down the parking lot. "Is there somewhere else you would like to go?" The bookstore had its own entrance, but there were at least two more into the mall proper.

Finn nodded and gestured for me to keep going. We passed another entrance, but he wouldn't let me stop. One more and Finn was pointing at something. I looked over, taking care not to hit any of the pedestrians that insisted on strolling right in front of my car.

I caught sight of what he was pointing at, and had to smile. A deli, one that was attached to the mall. "Hungry after all?" It was a foolish question. Finn Hudson was never not hungry.

He rummaged though the dash until he found a napkin and a pen. With careful strokes, he scrawled out a single word. COMPRIMIZ

His spelling hadn't improved much, but it wasn't hard to make out the word: compromise. Finn was hungry, he had always been hungry, but he hadn't wanted to go through a drive thru. Not because he wouldn't destroy his body like that, but because he knew that I wouldn't want to destroy mine. This was his way of looking out for me, as repayment for me looking out for him.

_Or he really wants a sub sandwich. What did I say to you about reading too much into Finn's actions? He's…mysterious these days._

That was a kind way to put it. Mysterious, stupid, crazy, mute, traumatized, broken, it all went into the entire package that was Finn Hudson these days. "Lunch for both of us, then." If Finn hadn't been thinking about me, then he wouldn't have told me that it was a compromise, right?

The little voice had nothing to say to that, which meant point to me. I parked a ways back, always mindful of where I was, and what could happen to both me and my car if I got too close to anyone else.

Finn got his seatbelt off without a problem, but paused with his hand on the door, tense and worried. I came around and opened it for him, holding out a hand. "Come on."

He was still, his body turned very slightly towards me, but his hands were limp in his lap. I didn't say anything else, but I didn't drop my hand either. If I had to take him back home right now, I would, but there was no way I was leaving him alone in the car while I got the book, not even for five minutes. It had only taken that long for someone to grab him last time.

The mental war lasted for so long that I was starting to curse my decision to bring him at all. The first step, the one out of the house had been minor compared to this. This was a great leap into the unknown, into a mall where he would be surrounded by people who might do anything to him, and his only defense was me, who couldn't do anything that Puck probably hadn't tried last time.

_You have a mean kick. And you have a shriek on you that could shatter glass if it came down to it. Plus, you have the added bonus of the fact that you would die defending him, no questions asked. Believe me, that helps._

I didn't want anyone to have to die. I just wanted to get Finn through what had happened, and give him a push into getting his life back. That was it. I wanted him to be able to talk, and go outside without being paralyzed by fear, and attend his junior year without being held back. I wanted the old Finn back, even if that meant giving him back to Rachel for more abuse.

_You want Finn, period. _

Not like this. I wanted Finn to be happy and safe, and, while I could do my best to make him safe, I would never make him happy, not in a million years. Rachel was cruel, but she was right. I was a boy, which meant I was not only last in his sexual list, I wasn't even on it. Thinking anything else was pure delusion on my part.

I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I jumped and nearly screamed when Finn's hand closed around my wrist. He startled backwards, but didn't let me go. Instead his eyes searched mine, questioning and deep. There was no way I could tell him what I had actually been thinking, so I settled for giving him a gentle tug. He came easily, his eyes never leaving mine. I was upset and he knew it, but what he didn't know was how to fix the problem. "It's alright Finn, I promise."

His lips moved, forming a word that I couldn't understand. "What?" Finn almost never did that, so what he had been trying to tell me must be important. But he wouldn't repeat the gesture. He just stared at me with a look that said either it should have been obvious, or I should have paid more attention the first time.

The deli wasn't crowded, and we were both able to take our time deciding what we wanted. Finn chose quickly, but it took me a while to both make my choice and be clear about his. There was a lot of pointing and hand motions as he tried to explain what type of bread he wanted, as well as which of the dozen or so condiments he needed.

Sometimes it was the little things about him not talking that seemed the hardest. His explanation, which should have taken all of 15 seconds, had drug out 3 minutes or more, and I had to keep waving people to go ahead of us. They did, but not without giving Finn funny looks, like whatever was wrong with him might be contagious. I was used to getting those looks, but I had never seen anyone give them to Finn. Luckily, he didn't seem to notice. Or maybe he did and just didn't care. It was hard to tell what did and did not bother Finn since he had come back.

The nice thing about eating with someone is that neither one of you has to talk. You can just concentrate on eating and it was easy to pretend that this was a normal outing between two normal people. That Finn and I would eat and then he would break off to go to Spencers or the FYE Store, and I would hit the more fashionable (but still pretty pathetic) places. Then we would meet up just in time to go home. Just like things might have been if Finn and I had ever decided to hang out together, just the pair of us. It was nice to pretend for just a few minutes.

All too soon we were finished, though. I spooned the last of my yogurt into my mouth and Finn took an enormous final bite of his club sandwich, extra bacon and cheese and no mayo. Then he drained his drink in quick pulls and gathered both of our dishes together to throw away.

"Do you want to go anywhere but the bookstore?" I didn't offer Finn my hand this time, because I knew that he wouldn't take it. Not to mention it would get us teased and possibly beaten up. I would have taken the risk if I thought that Finn wanted it, but he had already stepped away and into the doorway, eyes scanning for any possible threat. I started to step towards him, but he held a hand up until he had checked out as much of the mall as possible. Then he nodded and made a 'come here' gesture.

_Aww, it's kind of cute when he's all protective. _

It was cute; at least it would have been if it wasn't so darn sad. Finn shouldn't need to protect anyone, least of all me. He shouldn't be worried about that at all. But he was. I wondered if he was looking for the man who had taken him, or if he even remembered who that man was. Maybe everyone was potentially that man, and that was why he was so nervous around Dad, and around all these strangers.

I took a few seconds to count the people around us, and wonder what it would be like to be afraid of every single person in this mall, to think that one of them might steal me, or hurt me, or even kill me. Just pretending put chills up and down my spine, and I couldn't imagine living like this.

But Finn did. He did it day in day out, and had been doing it for at least two weeks. Suddenly his fears, the lights, the doors, his refusal to leave the house, it all made more sense. It was easy to defend yourself if the lights were on, and the doors were all open so you could make a quick escape, and you never left the house, so you could know every nook and cranny and how you might use it to your advantage. Maybe half the reason that Finn looked so blank these days was because he was so mentally exhausted.

"Finn." I waited until he was looking directly at me before I continued. "How about you let me do that?"

He gave me a confused look, but at least he was focused on me, instead of everything around him. I tried to clarify. "I know you're worried, and that you want to take care of me, but why don't you let me do the worrying for right now, ok? I'll keep both of us safe. You just relax."

The look in his eyes said that his didn't trust me with that task, but that he very much wanted to. "Please, Finn, let me try."

After what felt like an eternity, he nodded and his body relaxed slightly. Not much, just enough to be noticeable. I stopped at the little pretzel kiosk and bought him a lemonade, less because I thought he might be thirsty, and more to give him something to hold on to and keep his hands occupied. "If you spill this in the bookstore, you are…in huge trouble."

I had barely stopped myself from telling him that he was a dead man. I would have said it to anyone else, but I knew that Finn would take it far too literally and end up panicking. Not that he didn't have reason to, of course, but I wanted this to be a good day, one where he understood that not everyone would try and hurt him, and that the rest of the family would keep him safe.

Finn kept in step with me while on the way to the bookstore, his focus going between the lemonade in his hands and his feet. I touched his back twice to guide him correctly, and both times I could feel that his muscles were so tense he was shivering. He was trying so hard to let me take care of him, but he just wasn't ready to fully trust me yet. 

"Almost there." I was proud of the fact that I still sounded confident, that my voice didn't waver at all. "Just a one stop at the bookstore, then we can go home."

The color was rapidly leaving his face, and I prayed briefly that Finn would neither pass out nor throw up. His fingers were tight on the cup. "One little stop."

"Sir, you can't have a drink in the store." The man's voice was gentle and unthreatening, but I was rapidly coming to find out that there was no such thing as gentle and unthreatening with men these days. At least not in Finn's mind. He started to back up, and I knew I had seconds to fix this before he fell apart. I put my body in between the two of them. "I'm sorry, my brother is….. um….autistic. That cup is the only thing preventing a total meltdown. I just need to pick up one book that they're holding behind the desk and then we'll leave. He won't spill, I promise."" 

Lying had never come naturally to me, and if the situation hadn't been so desperate I could have never pulled it off. As it was, I could tell that he didn't quite believe me, but he did seem to sense that _something _was off about Finn, who was looking at the ground with his eyes shut; probably pretending that he was anywhere but here right now. Actually, he was giving Finn a long stare. "Do I know the two of you? Your brother looks very familiar."

That was a wrinkle that hadn't occurred to me. Everyone in Lima knew who Finn was, since his picture had been everywhere, but I hadn't considered that anyone else would recognize him. "I don't think so. Mitchell here is very shy."

I prayed that Finn wouldn't blow this by choosing this moment to not only talk, but tell everyone that he was neither autistic nor named Mitchell. Luckily, he didn't, just stayed as still as a statue. The employee backed down, no doubt with visions of ADA violations and lawsuits dancing through his head. "Alright, just be quick."

"Thanks." I all but drug Finn over to the desk, where I picked up my book and paid as quickly as possible. I took Finn outside through the bookstore entrance, hoping that the fresh air would help. He breathed in big gulps of air, as if he had been choking to death inside. I patted his back again. "See, you did it. I told you that I wouldn't let anything happen."

He couldn't even summon the weak smile he had given me earlier. Carole had been right; it was too much for him, too soon. Why hadn't I listened to her?

_Because you weren't paying attention, that's why. You listened to Mercedes, and you listened to Tina, and you let them tell you that they knew Finn better then you did. If you had listened to your own instincts, you would have known to leave him at home._

For once, I was as silent as Finn during the walk back to the car. He climbed into the seat and closed his eyes, seeming to go to sleep before I could even make it around to the drivers side. It was one of the ways he dealt this stress these days, by just shutting himself down. It nearly killed me to think about where he had learned that trick, and why.

Carole was still gone when we got home, thankfully. If she had seen the condition I brought Finn home in, she would have never leave me alone with him again. I shook Finn's shoulder. "We're home."

It took a few minutes to get him to the point where he could slide out of the car, blinking tiredly and swaying on his feet. If he was pleased to be home, he didn't show it. In fact, he didn't act like he had any idea where he was.

I took his arm and guided him towards the house. "Come on, love." The endearment slipped out without my thinking about it, but Finn didn't react. He just let me lead him downstairs and put him to bed, still fully clothed. He did toe his sneakers off with a little bit of gentle coaxing, but he pulled away from me when I tried to help him get his T-shirt off, so I left well enough alone. I pulled the blankets around him and turned on the white noise machine by the bed, hoping the block enough noise that he could get some rest. "I'll wake you up for dinner."

No response, but I left anyway, because I had hurt him enough for one day. I didn't cry of course, because that had never done much for me, but I did sit quietly in front of the television, mindlessly focused on some show I knew nothing about.

Things had taken longer then I though they had, though not as long as they had felt, and certainly not as long as it had probably felt to Finn. Carole appeared about two hours later, weighed down with grocery bags. "Hello, Baby, how are things? How's Finn?"

Every thought I have has the bad habit of flashing across my face, and she could read it in an instant. "What happened? Is he alright?"

"He's fine, I think. You were right; he wasn't ready to go anywhere. I'm sorry, Carole. I, uh, I messed up." I very seldom heard my voice sound quite so small.

She sighed. "What happened?"

I went over the day in as much detail as I could, telling her about lunch and skipping the park and what had happened at the bookstore. "Then he fell asleep in the car and he's pretty much been like that all afternoon."

She looked outside. "Is he still out there?"

"No, I got him to come inside and go to bed, but he was pretty out of it."

That earned me a sad chuckle. "He's always been like that. I always swore I didn't know what I would do when he got too big for me to carry. But he's pretty good about letting you guide him. When he's really out, though, he's out cold."

"I didn't mean to upset him. I just…I should have listened to you." It was hard to admit, and I knew that Carole had every right to be upset with me.

She sat down on the couch next to me. 'Kurt, it's alright. I know that you love Finn as much as I do, and you want him to get better."

_Kurt loves him more then you do. Well, maybe not more, but as much, just in a different way. Both of you want what's best for Finn. _

There was no voicing that thought, though, and Carole kept going. "I think you were right to try, though. There's a line between babying and comforting, and I might be babying him. It's just hard to see him as almost grown right now."

I almost wished that she had yelled, because now I felt terrible. I hadn't done what was best for Finn, and if I had taken just a few minutes to think about it, I would have known that. "Yeah, look how well that turned out." My voice was hoarse and ugly and I cleared my throat a few times.

"But it sounds like you handled it really well. You changed plans in the middle, and got him home safe. Finn's lucky to have you watching out for him."

_I'm sure he feels lucky right now._

"Everything I do with him is wrong." The words came out without conscious thought.

She nodded, and there were more sadness in that slight movement then should have been possible. "I know. But believe me, Kurt, you aren't any different then the rest of us. Do I let Finn hide in the house, because he's secure there? He can't spend the rest of his life in our basement. But how can I push him out, when he's so obviously afraid? I don't even know how I'm going to get him to deal with the therapist tomorrow, or how I'm going to pay for it once he's there. My insurance will only cover 12 sessions, and he's going to need more then that. So I have to come up with $300 per session, for a kid who probably won't even speak to this woman. I can't leave him at home either, though, because he's not getting better by himself. He won't so much as look at your father, and I have no idea how to fix that either. So, all of the choices are wrong, and what do I do?"

"I don't know." I wanted to say something to comfort her, but there was nothing. Finn might be in therapy for the rest of his life, and still never get over what had happened to him. What would happen to him in the long term if he couldn't start healing now?

"Exactly. It's alright not to know, and it's alright to make mistakes. So today didn't work out the way you wanted it to, at least you tried. No matter what you to wrong, you're still making his life better then it was a few weeks ago. Just love him, Kurt, and do your best. It's all any of us can do for him right now."

_Ok, we can do that._

"I'll try." The words came out sounding weak and I forced them to be better. "I mean, I will. Don't worry, Carole, we can do this. You, me, and Dad, we'll be enough for Finn."

Her eyes told me that she didn't believe that, even as her mouth smiled. "Have I ever told you that I love you, Kurt?"

No, but I had wanted her to for a while. I shook my head and studied the countertop. Please, please, please….

"Well, that was a mistake. I love you, baby, just like I love Finn. You're both my kids now, and I would do anything for you."

As desperate as the situation was, I did feel a warmth in my chest at her words. "Thank you." I wanted to be able to tell her that I loved her, too, but I couldn't quite do it.

She read my mind. "It will come in time. We're still new to each other, and new to being a family. When you love Finn and I, you'll be able to say it without any problem."

Damn, she was smart sometimes. Carole sat down next to me, her shoulder almost touching mine. Dinner sat half prepared on the counter, but neither one of us stood to fix the rest of it. Even though she was right there, I still couldn't quite form a connection to her, not like I had had with my own mother. Finn was what connected us, and without his influence, the cord was frayed and strained. We were together, yes, but rather then feeling closer to her since Finn had returned, I was actually feeling even more pushed away.

_Well, what did you expect? Finn coming back doesn't solve any of your problems, other then the fear of wondering where he is. You still have a major and inappropriate crush on him, your father is still dating his mother and forgetting yours, you're still sharing your room with someone who doesn't know the meaning of the word 'hamper', and Puck is still dead. This isn't TV, and it's not going to suddenly get better. It'll be work on every one's part. If you can do that, great, because I don't think he's going to make it without you. If you can't, well…_

I got it, but I was only 17 years old. How could I possibly assume responsibility for another person? Then again, how could I not? What could I possibly have to do that would be more important then Finn's mental health?

Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with the need to see Finn for a minute, just to reassure myself that he was still really here. "I need to go downstairs and get changed for dinner."

It was a thin excuse, even to my own ears, but she let me go. I kept my footsteps as light as possible, so I wouldn't disturb Finn if he was still asleep. All I needed to do was take a quick look, then I would leave him alone.

As it turned out, Finn wasn't asleep at all. He was awake, and watching me in the dark room. I forced a smile. "Hello, Finn Hudson."

He didn't smile back. His stare wasn't accusing, but it wasn't terribly friendly either. It was almost…appraising. Like he was reevaluating my place in his life. Normally that would have been a good thing (and possibly a_ very_ good thing), but there was a dark look in his eyes that worried me. "Your mother is making pot roast for us; it should be done in a half hour or so. Do you need to take a shower before we eat?"

I knew that he had taken one this morning, but I was starting to get a bit creeped out by the way he was looking at me without any hint of what he was thinking. His head shook once, and his eyes never left mine. "Do you want something else?" I tried to keep my voice encouraging and not frustrated, despite my actual feelings. Finn was freaked out enough, and speaking harshly might put him over the edge.

From the way his eyes softened, I knew that there was something, but he wouldn't even try to tell me what. He just sat up and stared at me, as if he thought I could read his mind. So I went in different direction. "I'm sorry about today."

_Me, too. _The gesture, our first one, was as clear as it had been a few weeks ago.

"You don't have to be. I should have just gone by myself and let you stay home. It would have been better." I sat down on the edge of the bed, and was secretly pleased when he didn't push me away.

His head shook rapidly. One hand came up and he pointed at me, then himself, then pressed his hands together. Apparently he was taking the whole 'sticking together' thing to heart. "You're a good brother."

That earned me a slight narrowing of his eyes, though he didn't actually do anything. What did that mean? He hadn't wanted to move in with Dad and I in the first place; maybe he was still uncomfortable with the idea of being brothers?

_You are so incredibly dense sometimes._

What was that supposed to mean? While I was still thinking about it, Finn jumped up and went into the bathroom, making sure that the door was closed no more then the requisite amount. I stared at the back of the door, noticing the scuff mark from where Finn had kicked over a chair so many months ago. I had intended to paint over it, but, in the end, I hadn't had the heart. It was a small proof that Finn had actually been there. Now that he was back, though, there was no reason not to fix it. If I could make the door clean and white and perfect again, maybe I could do the same for Finn.

_You can't. You can't make time move backwards, and you can't make Finn be the person he was before. All you can do is make him be the best person he's capable of being, right now. He's looking to you as it is, just be there for him, no matter what he needs from you._

I wondered what that voice knew that I didn't. Logically, the answer was nothing, because it was all in my head. But it seemed to consistently come up with things that I had missed, like insisting that Finn was alive when I was sure he was dead, or letting my know just how creepy my fixation on him had been. Somehow, things that should have stayed in my subconscious were being brought up, and I wasn't sure that it was entirely a bad thing.

Maybe, between that voice and I, we still had a chance of helping Finn.


	12. Chapter 12

_**It`s unrealistic to expect that you can bleach the **_**_trauma_**_** out of your mind. What treatment can help you do is learn how to cope with the experience, with the memories and to live in the present.**_

_**- **__**Lisa Lewis**_

Finn's new therapist showed up the next morning at 10:00 on the dot. Carole had insisted that the new therapist both be a woman, and come to us rather then forcing Finn to go to her. The association had fought both, but there was no force on earth like a mother defending her child. Carole had really pulled out all the stops, finally threatening to take the matter to the media, where everyone could find out that they were denying a 17 year old kidnap victim proper services. She wouldn't, of course, because she would never betray Finn's privacy like that, but she must have convinced someone, because Finn had a specialist at the doorstep within a few days.

He knew that it was coming, of course. Carole had told him right after she made the appointment, explaining as clearly and gently as she could what the woman's job was, and that it didn't mean that he was a freak, or that he was crazy, just that he needed some help sorting things out, and this woman would be able to do that. That she was seeing a therapist herself, and that we would all be seeing one as a family very soon. She made no mention of his talking, or lack there of.

Finn had nodded, and stared blankly, and nodded again. He didn't like any of it, I could tell, but he wouldn't fight her on this. He would, however, drag his feet all morning so that he was still getting dressed when the woman arrived.

Even though I had been told in no uncertain terms that I was to make myself as scarce as possible while Finn had therapy, I still wanted to see this woman for myself, and make sure that she was good enough for Finn. So I planted myself by the door, making sure that I was able to open it for her when she rang the bell.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Hayden, you can call me Samantha if you're more comfortable with that." She extended a hand for me to shake, shifting the tote bag she was carrying to her shoulder. "I'm here to see Finn."

As much as I was prepared to hate her, I had to admire both the fact that she spoke to me as if I were a capable adult, and that she waited for me to introduce myself, rather then assuming who I was. She had to know the truth, of course, since she had been givin a basic overview of our family dynamics in order for her to get a feel for Finn to start with, but I appreciated her attempt to make things easy.

Finn finally appeared, staring at the woman as if he expected her to grow fangs and leap at him. I wanted to help, but Dad actually got me by the elbow and drug me from the room. "Kurt, you and I are going down to the garage for a while, period."

There was nothing I wanted to do less, but he wasn't letting go. "I have homework!"

He wasn't swayed. "It's August, but nice try."

Damn, I hadn't thought that one through. "It's an assignment for Glee. If I don't keep my voice in proper shape, then I'll be stuck in the background next year, too, and I won't get to fulfill my dream and I'll spend the rest of my life in Lima, Ohio, getting the crap beaten out of me."

His eyebrow rose, and I knew I had pushed it a little too far with the last part. I backed up and tried again. "What if Finn needs me?"

"That's exactly why you can't be there. If Finn knows that you're around, he's going to try to go to you. He needs to learn to trust Dr. Hayden. If he's that desperate, Carole will be upstairs."

As hard as I tried, I couldn't fault his logic. "Ok."

The garage was a total bust. Dad locked himself in the office with some books, and I wandered around, starting jobs and not finishing them, or just standing in the corner and using the toe of my ugly, heavy, functional boot to doodle in the dust. All I could think about was the fact that Finn probably needed me right now, and all I could do was stare at an old Honda that should have seen the junkyard 20 years ago.

Finally I took the spare key and slunk into the office. Dad's head shot up. "Did I lock the door?" He seemed genuinely surprised.

"Yes." I sat on the edge of his desk, wanting something from him, but not knowing what it was. "Can we go home now?"

"Not yet." He leaned back and sighed. "Carole specifically asked if I would be out of the hosue for this. She thinks Finn will be more settled and receptive if he's not worrying about me."

That was probably true, but it was sad that Dad didn't feel welcome in his own house. "I'm sorry he's acting like that. I've tried to get him to stop, I promise." I really had, but Finn would shut down completely whenever Dad was brought up. I couldn't stand seeing him just laying there with his eyes closed, or with his head dropped into his arms, so I eventually gave up.

"It's not your fault, Kiddo. It's not his fault either, but that's one of the reasons that Dr. Hayden is here. We have to figure out a way for us to live as a family, and for Finn to be comfortable sharing a house with me."

"Do you thinks someone…hurt him?" My pause was more then long enough for him to know what I was really asking.

"Yes. I've read all the same things that you have, and we both know that there are really only two motives for kidnapping: money or sex. Since no one asked for money, and he's still alive, I'm guessing they took him for sex. What I don't understand is why they brought him back."

That was about the only thing that I _did_ understand. "Because he knew that you were looking for him. He knew that someone had seen Finn, and that we would be looking for him, so they ditched him. It won't work, though, we'll still find the guy who took him." I sounded desperate even to my own ears.

"It seems to me that, if we're talking about New Mexico, it would be easier to ditch a teenage boy, one who we all know could identify him from a lineup if nothing else, in the middle of the desert. It's a huge place and chances are they wouldn't find a body until it was too late to ID it, if they found it at all."

I hadn't even considered that. "Just because they took him, doesn't mean they would try and kill him."

_They killed Puck. Why would you think that they wouldn't kill Finn, too, as soon as he became a liability?_

Dad just looked at me, his eyes telling me that he was thinking the same thing. "I guess it doesn't matter, though. They brought him home, and he's here now. The other stuff is important, but that's what he has a therapist for. Our job is just to love him as best we can."

"But he's going to be ok, right? It'll be hard, and it'll take a while, but he'll be Finn again, won't he?"

"I hope so." He reached an arm out and I came to him, allowing him to give me an awkward, one armed hug. "I hope so." The last part was mumbled against the top of my head.

Because this was his first session, and because Finn's case was so high profile, he was going to be with this doctor for two hours, instead of the usual one. Then she would come twice a week, with the eventual goal being that he would be able to come to her office instead. Which was good for Finn, but meant that I had to sit and worry for twice as long.

We stayed in the office for over an hour. Dad went over the bills, and I compulsively cleaned, tutting every time I found a Slim Jim wrapper or carefully hidden Twinkie. "Dad, this stuff is disgusting. It clogs your arteries and do you know what sort of preservatives are in there?"

He gave a grunt and continued with his paperwork, unwilling to engage me in the same argument we had already had dozens of times. So I paced and cleaned and reorganized his manuels so that thing would be easier for him to find.

Finally, he agreed that it was time to go home, just in case there was anything he needed to hear before the doctor left. The ride home was quiet, each of us absorbed in our own worries.

As it turned out, though, there had been nothing to be concerned about. Finn had liked the doctor, and the pair of them were at he kitchen table, calmly working together. I'm not entirely sure why that surprised me, considering how positively Finn responded to any adult offering him attention, but at least he seemed content. Dr. Hayden looked up and smiled at us. "Look who's home!" 

When he saw me, Finn's face lit up with a smile that had my heart clenching, but the look quickly faded when he saw Dad behind me. I could see by the doctors expression that she noticed, but she didn't say anything. Instead she smiled. "Hi, guys, welcome back. We had a really good session, and I have a few things for you to work on as a family. Finn, why don't you go grab you mother so we can get going. Kurt, Mr. Hummel, you can go ahead and take a seat."

I looked over the table, curious about what they had been doing. There was a McKinley High yearbook, open to the Glee club's page, scattered pieces of paper, some with words and some without, and various colored pencils and crayons. Whatever had been happening, it looked kind of fun.

Finn returned with Carole, again choosing to sit next to me as opposed to in his own chair. Dr. Hayden smiled at him. "Are you still alright with this?" At his nod, she continued. "As you know, I am Finn's therapist, and thus anything he tells me is to be held in confidence. The fact that he is less then 18 years old does not matter. That includes you, Carole. However, I am able to share things with his permission, which is what I would like to do now. This does not mean that he's giving permission for me to share everything, or to share anything past what we did today."

She flipped over a piece of paper. "Now, the first thing I always ask is for my patients to draw a picture of their family the way they see it. This is what Finn came up with."

We all looked at the picture in surprise. Dad smiled. "Finn, I didn't know that you could draw."

I hadn't known that either. Finn wasn't a prodigy, but it was very clear who each member of the family was. He had even drawn me in an outfit that I had put on a few days ago, right down to the color coordinated scarf. "This looks very good."

Once I got over the initial surprise, I found myself looking closer at the picture. Our house was in the background, so he must be considering it home, at least for now. He had drawn Carole on the far left, himself next to her, me next to him, then Dad on my other side. "So, Finn, the four of us are a family?"

He shook his head and touched the top of the picture, where I was just noticing two scribbles that looked like white crayon. I would have guessed that they looked kind of like clouds, but obviously they weren't. Carole craned her neck to look. "What are those?"

Finn looked to Dr. Hayden, who shrugged and looked back at him. I knew that he was wanting her to speak for him, since he gave me the same look, but, where I would have gone ahead and done it, she didn't. Instead she waited for him to do it himself.

And he _was_ capable. He raised and lowered his hands a few times as he tried to think of appropriate gestures, then finally picked up a black colored pencil and labled one mark 'My Dad' and the other 'Kurt's Mom'. Then he used a finger to circle the blobs in with the rest of the family. Carole put a hand to her mouth, and even I had to admit that it was a touching gesture. Yes, we were technically a family of four, but our deceased parents would be with us in our memories, and that would color our current releationships.

"That's lovely, Finn." Her tone was warm and maternal and he smiled gently in response.

"So there are six in the family, 4 living, two dead?" Dad was keeping as far away from Finn as possible while still being seated at the same table. Finn's dark eyes studied Dad, but he didn't respond. Still, even eye contact was an improvement.

"Carole." Dr. Hayden's voice was soft, and I realized that she and Carole had had private discussions before today.

My stepmother nodded. "Finn? An adult just asked you a question. You know that I expect you to be polite and answer him."

It was a complete 180 from the tolerant behavior she had been showing, and Finn was obviously thrown for a moment. Carole gave him a moment, then tried again. "Finn, either be polite or go to your room." I could hear the strain in her voice, telling me how hard it was for her to do this.

Now he _was_ shocked. Shocked, but not defeated, because he looked hard at all of us, saving a particularly dirty look for Dad, then stood up and marched down to the basement. He still wouldn't close the door, which meant it was entirely possible for to all hear him something over, probably my vanity chair. Carole sighed. "That was harder then I thought it would be." 

"Of course it was. You want to make everything easy for him, but that isn't realistic. He's 17 years old, and it's not his job to control any relationship right now, particularly one with an adult he doesn't know very well."

Dad was shifting uncomfortably, probably feeling put on the spot in front of this woman. "It's really ok. I mean, he's trying to run things, but isn't that something to be expected?"

I seemed to have been forgotten, so I sat as quietly as possible so that no one would suddenly remember me and tell me to leave. This was fascinating, and I was as close to Finn as they were.

The doctor nodded. "It is, and it's normal for where he's at mentally right now. He doesn't trust you, so he feels like he has to be one step ahead of you, to keep himself in charge. But, at the same time, if he, at 17 years old, can manipulate you like he's been doing, how can he possibly ever trust you to keep him safe? He knows that he can't keep himself safe, if he could have, he wouldn't have been kidnapped in the first place. By taking charge like this, you present yourself as a strong presence. Even if it initially makes Finn nervous, he will feel more safe in the long run."

Dad nodded. "That makes sense."

"Like I said previously, I can not reveal anything Finn may or may not have told me during our session, but I'm going to offer some general advice. You, Burt, need to start being the source of good things for Finn. Right now, you're that scary guy who stole his mother away, then made him leave the only home he's ever known, move in with a brand new family, and share a bedroom and life with one of his schoolmates. Then he was taken, and his best friend killed within a few days of moving in. It's not your fault, but, to Finn, I'm guessing his feelings about you in general are confused with everything else that has happened."

"So how do I be a source of good things when he'll barely look me in the eye and would rather be punished then talk to me?" It was something I was wondering as well, but I pretended to be absorbed in Finn's drawing.

"I would start by getting something he loves. A box of special desserts or snacks, a new video game, something like that. You keep whatever it is, and he gets it by asking you. Period. He doesn't get it from his mother, he doesn't get it from his brother, he gets it from you. I'm not saying to withhold things he needs, like meals or clothing, because that will backfire, but anything extra good comes from you."

She looked at each of us, to make sure she had our attention, then continued. "Expect him to refuse, expect him to tantrum, expect just about everything, but it will help in the end. It will get worse before it gets better, and you need to be prepared for that. He has to understand that you will provide for him, and you will love him, no matter how unloveable he acts. If his case ever goes to trial, he'll need all the support he can get."

"Do you think it will go to trial?" As much as I wanted whoever had taken Finn to pay, I knew that none of us could handle that right now.

Everyone jumped, apparently having forgotten that I was still present. How they could do that when I was wearing a neon yellow jacket and sitting in my father's usual place was a bit of a mystery, but it had served it's purpose well. "I mean, after they catch him.' 

"I really don't know anything about the legal aspects of Finn's case. I'm here in a therapeutic capacity, and may be called on to testify to his mental state later, but I don't know anything about the actual investigating that you don't. I'm sorry."

So much for that hope. "It's ok. I was just curious."

_And scared._

Suddenly all of the attention was on me. "Kurt, does Finn talk to you?"

"No." No matter what I tried and now hard I wished, Finn was as resolutely silent to me as he was to everyone else.

"That's a bit unusual. Usually in cases like this, the person in question will choose one person to still speak to. If he does decide to talk to you, and he might just spontaneously start, do not make a huge deal out of it. He's already extremely nervous, and fear of everyone freaking out might keep him silent. Just act like it's normal."

"I can do that." If it stood the slightest chance of helping Finn, I would do anything."

She gave me a sideways glance, and I wondered if she could tell that I had once had a crush on Finn. Or that I _still_ had a crush on Finn. If she could, she chose not to say anything. She just stood and offered her hand to each of us in turn. "I'll be back on Thursday, is it alright if I say goodbye to Finn?"

"Of course." Carole moved to the top of the stairs. "Finn, you can come back up now, Dr. Hayden is leaving."

He came, but with heavy, deliberate steps that let all of us know how pissed he was still feeling. When he crested the stairs, he gave Dr. Hayden a quick hug, but refused to make eye contact with the rest of us. She smiled gently. "Finn, work on the things we talked about, and I'll see you on Thursday."

Thumbs-up, and the tiniest smile I had ever seen. Then he wiggled his fingers in a quick goodbye and went back downstairs. Even without speech, his message was clear. The rest of us could leave him the fuck alone.

Dad and Carole exchanged looks. "How about we let him cool off a bit?"

Cowards. Finn didn't really want to be left alone, he just had to make his big stand and let our parents know how pissed off he was. His could blow up quickly, but his anger wouldn't last, and he wanted someone to come down and reassure him that it was alright, that our anger wouldn't last either. "I have laundry to do, but I won't get in his way."

Finn was sitting in front of the television, playing Mariokart and making low growling noises. It surprised me, because it was the first time I had heard him make any sort of noise when he was awake. I watched him for a minute, but he didn't seem to be aware that he was doing it. I approached him from the side, not wanting to startle him. He was wearing headphones, the music playing loud enough that I could hear it from where I was standing.

"Can I play?" Mariokart was about the only one of Finn's games I could stand, except for the musical ones. Of course, considering that most of the rest of his games involved shooting and extreme violence, it was about the only one of Finn's games that _Finn _could stand, either. He wouldn't even look at the boxes of the other games.

At his nod, I sat down on the edge of the bed, and picked up a controller. "Can I be Princess?"

He nodded, but he seemed distracted. Tired. I reached out and patted his back, trying to hide my disappointment when he flinched away. "Sorry. No one's mad at you, up there. You don't actually have to talk to Dad, or to any of us, just acknowledge that he's talking to you."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. They were true, of couse, but Dad and Carole needed to be the ones saying them. That earned me an irritated grunt. Normally such a caveman type gesture would have horrified me, but Finn was actually communicating with noises. Not words, but a purposeful noise that was directed at me. "I'll just be quiet now."

Finn didn't make any further noises, but he did allow me to choose my player and the tracks we were going to race on, so he hadn't lost awareness of me. He won the first two times, but I beat him the third. "Best three out of five?"

He gave me a thumbs up. "Ok, if I win, you and I sit down with that sign language book and work for a while."

Finn pointed at himself and raised an eyebrow. "If you win? I don't know, what do you want?"

Good question. Apparently Finn either didn't know what he wanted, or didn't know how to communicate it, because he just shrugged, then smiled. It was a devilish smirk, one that made me a little nervous. "I ought to be very, very, afraid, right?"

Another happy nod, and I made a mental note to be sure to win. "Ok, but no cheat codes. I'm tired of being blasted out of the way every time I start to win."

One finger drew an 'X' over his heart and I nodded. "We start over, though, otherwise it's not fair."

Finn didn't seem as thrilled with that, but he eventually nodded again. I picked Princess again, and he played Bowser. I wondered if there was any significance in that, or if I was just trying to read too much into it.

It took nearly an hour, and all five games, but I squeaked out to victory. Barely. Finn looked insulted, but he was a good sport about it all and sat back, his hands held up in supplication. If I gave him a choice, he would screw around until bedtime, so I nodded quickly. "Ok, we start right now."

I dug the book out from under my desk without delay, pointing Finn to sit on the bed. He did without complaint, and I sat across from him, angling the book so we could both see it. "How about the alphabet?"

There were pictures as well as descriptions, so it was easy for me to imitate first 'A', then 'B'. "Ok, now you try."

He mimicked quickly. "Good. Now 'C', and 'D'." His fingers followed mine. See, this was going well. I led him through the alphabet, waiting until he could make the gestures perfectly. "Not so bad, right? That only took a little while."

Finn took the book and studied the pictures for a few seconds, then moved his fingers rapidly. I wasn't expecting it, so I couldn't follow. "I'm sorry, what?"

The gesture was repeated, and this time I understood. "Oh, I get it. _Finn_. Good job."

Another quick look and he made more signs. "K-U-R-T. Kurt. Yes, that's me."

His delight was obvious, so I turned a few more pages, looking for signs he would need for day to day. Things that would give us even the slightest idea what he might require.

By the time an hour had passed, Finn could tell me that he was hungry and thirsty, and that he needed the bathroom. He could ask for Carole and tell us he was ready for bed. He had shortened my name down to the 'K' sign, wiggled back and forth. I also made sure that he could correctly sign 'please', since he already knew 'thank you'. Refusing to speak was no excuse for poor manners.

It was also no excuse for the way he dressed, but I couldn't do much about that. Finn's surprisingly stubborn when he feels like it and he wasn't about to let me choose his outfits on a daily basis. Again, it was all about control. He took the book back one last time, and flipped though the pages. After what felt like forever, he located the sign he was looking for and repeated it to himself a few times. Once he seemed satisfied, I took the book and double checked what he wanted to say. "Sorry? Who do you need to apologize to?"

_Mom. _The sign came quickly. Then he thought hard for a minute, and reluctantly consulted the book again and spelled out _B-U-R-T_. The expression on his face told me how distasteful he found having to apologize to Dad, but at least it was a step forward.

"You don't have to, but it would probably be nice." I kept my tone as light as possible. "Do you want me to go with you?"

_Please. _

"Ok, let's do it now. I have to take a shower to wash the garage grime off of myself." I wasn't going to give him any chance to lose his courage. While interacting with my father, putting myself in a vulnerable position, was nothing to me, it was terror inducing for Finn.

I pushed lightly on his back, guiding him up the stairs. If I was confident, Finn would be confident. Hopefully.

Luckily, Dad and Carole were both still in the kitchen. I clearned my throat and they both looked up. "Finn has something he wants to say."

For a minute, I though he was going to choke, but Finn gamely signed at both of them. Too late, I realized that neither one of them had a clue what he was trying to say. "He's trying to apologize for his behavior earlier."

Carole nodded. "Thank you, Finn. Apology accepted." She turned to Dad. "Burt?"

"What? Oh, yeah. It's fine Finn, water under the bridge and all that." His eyes were downcast and his tone gentle, as if he was placating a rabid dog. None of us wanted to do anything that might spoil this moment.

I could tell that Finn didn't really believe him, but his body did relax slightly. Carole glanced over. "I'm going grocery shopping today, so if there's anything you want, it needs to go on the list."

He quickly scrawled 'Popsicals', then 'Doritos- Red'. Normally, those were things that weren't allowed in the house, but we had all been giving Finn whatever he wanted since he came back, so she just nodded. "Is steaks on the grill ok for dinner?"

Finn had to think for a minute, but he finally nodded. I suppose I should be creeped out by the fact that he never moved his hands or his body, or really even his eyes, but I could read exactly what the issues was without any doubt. He liked steak just fine, but he was afraid that Dad would do something to his meal. Watching him watch them, I wondered if Finn was ever going to get better, or if this was him, the way he would always be.

_The sad part about all this? Well, other then the obvious, of course. You still love him. You can love him like this, and you could love him before. His soul hasn't changed, because it can't. That's how you know it's real. _

There went the schizophrenia again. Things couldn't be real with Finn. If things were real with Finn, then he would actually be, you know, _gay. _Or at least giving some indication that he wanted to try something. Or maybe an indication that he still had a sex drive, at all. We had no privacy from each other, and I was sure that he wasn't jerking off in an open shower, with the bathroom door partially open.

_Why not? You do._

_ I_ was capable of being both subtle and quiet. Finn was…ok, he had me beat in the quiet department these days, but subtlety was still beyond his reach. Besides, he could make noises, I had heard him the other night. He was just choosing not to. And since I knew full well that it was a little hard to control the noises that came out of your mouth while you were jerking off.

_For you maybe. I think we've well established that Finn has some control issues, now haven't we? _

Yes. It was just that I couldn't believe that Finn could be wound _that_ tightly and- "Kurt." The voice was unexpected, and I jumped. "What?" 

Carole was giving me a worried look. "You looked very spacy for a minute."

Everyone got spacey sometimes, but there was no way I could tell her that I was having an internal debate with the voice in my head, trying to listen to it explain all the reasons I should sexually pursue my traumatized stepbrother, her son. Yeah, not a good idea.

So I just shrugged and tried to smile. "I guess I'm just tired."

Her eyes called bullshit on me, and I got the impression that she and I would be talking about it later, but she didn't call me out in front of Finn and Dad, which I appreciated. "I think we should all have an early night tonight. Your father and I have talked it over, and we agree that you should have a special day tomorrow with Mercedes. Finn can go over to his teachers for the day."

Both of our heads popped up, and I was willing to bet that we were wearing identical expressions of joy. "Really?"

"Yes. You've been trapped in this house for too long, and I know you have a gift certificate that you're dying to use. Your father and I can handle things for the day, so take as long as you want."

"Thank you so much, Carole. You have no idea how excited I am." Facials and massages and cucumber masks and I wondered if they did that new treatment I had heard about, with the hot stones and….

"Considering you look like you're going to leap out of that chair and blast through the ceiling, I think I do. Go and call Mercedes before you hyperventilate. Finn, do you want to go shopping with me?"

He gave a very emphthetic head shake, then pointed at his additions to the list. "Yes, Finn, I get it. I will get you Popsicals, and the Doritos that come in the red bag, not the blue one." She leaned down and kissed the top of his head, and he shifted so she could kiss his cheek as well.

Then he turned and went into the living room, making little gestures to himself the entire time. Before it had happened, he talked to himself constantly, low soft mutters that were too soft for the rest of us to hear. The hand gestures seemed to be the new version of that. It was….ok, it wasn't normal, but it was kind of cute.

Dad looked after him. "I wanted to watch the game in there at three."

This was a golden opportunity. "So go watch. Maybe if I come up and sit with you, Finn will feel safer." Or maybe he would bolt like a deer, the odds were about 50/50.

"Thanks, Kurt. I know that hockey isn't really your thing and I appreciate you trying to make this easy on us." Dad was still watching the doorway, as if he expected Finn to come back through it.

"No problem. I'm going to call Mercedes, and I'll be back for the game." Hopefully she wouldn't already have plans.

She picked up on the third ring. "Hey, baby, what's up?" 

"You, me, spa, tomorrow." There was a pleading note in my voice. I needed this trip, need some normalacy in my life.

"Definitly. Did you find someone to take your little shadow?" She had become strangely protective of Finn.

"Mr. Shuester's got him for the day. Finn's over the moon." At least that had worked out well.

"Do you think he'll be ok over there?" She sounded uncertain, possibly because she had had to listen to me crying about how badly it had gone the lat time I had made Finn leave the house.

"I think he'll be fine. He loves Mr. Shue, and he seems pretty excited about it." My voice projected a confidence I didn't quite feel. Finn would be fine, he would have to be. There just wasn't any other option.

"Great!" Her voice was too perky and shiney, and I could hear the lie in it as well. "So, I'll see you first thing tomorrow?" 

"I'll make the reservations."


	13. Chapter 13

_**The worst way to miss someone is when they are right beside you and yet you know you can never have them.**_

_**Author Unknown**_

Finn was up early the next morning, going as far as to make breakfast for both of us in an attempt to get things moving faster. I rolled me eyes at him when he woke me up and presented me with breakfast in bed. "Finn, it's 6 in the morning. Not only is Mr. Shue not even up yet, and our appointments at the spa not until 10 but do you want to be the one to call Mercedes and wake her up? Do you want to face her wrath? Because I'm afraid to do it."

His eyes widened, and he shook his head once. "Smart choice." I scooted up against the mounds of pillows. "I do, however, appreciate your attempts at a healthy breakfast." He had brought scrambled eggs, toast, and yogurt with fruit in it, along with glasses of milk and juice. There was also some bacon, but I wasn't going to touch that. "This is a lot of food, though; I can't eat all of this."

To my surprise, he climbed up next to me and gestured between us. "Oh, this is for both of us?" I guessed that explained why there was two of everything. And one tray. And Finn Hudson wasn't moving out of my bed. Oh, God.

_Dear Penthouse Forum…_

The blood rushed to my face so quickly that it was a miracle the top of my head didn't explode. I growled mentally at the voice. _Shut up, shut up, shut up. _Finn grabbed up one of the yogurts, and started picking through it to find the berries. I took the glass of orange juice and gulped at it in an attempt to get myself back under control.

Because karma hates me, I don't have a very big bed. I had originally had a queen, but then Finn had moved in, and I had to get a full to make room for him and his things. I hadn't liked it, but it had seemed a small sacrifice at the time. Finn had had to get a full as well, and he was significantly bigger then I was, so it hadn't been so bad.

Unfortunately, now it meant that Finn had to lay with his body pressed against mine from shoulder to hip. He didn't seem to notice as he picked through the tray of food, but it was making my body uncomfortably warm.

_And hard._

Yes, that, too. Luckily the tray was in my lap, so there was no way for Finn to be able to tell. Not that he probably would have noticed anyway. I loved the boy, but he would be amazingly dense about some things.

Between the two of us, we managed to eat most of the breakfast Finn had prepared. I had been a little leery of anything that involved Finn actually cooking, since I had heard more then a few stories from Carole, but he had done well. "Thank you Finn, breakfast was delicious. Why don't you start getting ready while I do the dishes?" Dear, God, the dishes. There was probably a mess upstairs that rivaled the eruption of Mount Vesuvius.

A hand came down on my shoulder, making me jump. "Jesus Finn!"

_Sorry. _He started signing at me, far too quickly. Who would have thought that Finn would be so good at this? He had moved on to using the alphabet at me, and I couldn't keep up. Between trying to tell which letter he was signing and keeping track of what he had already signed, it was a losing battle. "Stop for a second, ok? I need to write this down."

I still didn't get every letter, but I was able to scrawl what I could and decipher it from there. _ _AT T_N_ R W_ L_AV_NG. That didn't make any sense. What blank Are We Leaving? _Time_, the word was time. I had just misread the 'M' as an 'N'. "8. That will give us enough time to pick up Mercedes, drop you off at Mr. Shue's, and get to our appointments on time."

He nodded, but there was a tension there hat hadn't been there before. I didn't want anything to spoil my plans, but I knew that I had to ask. "You're ok with this, right? Because I can stay home if you don't want to go to Mr. Shue's for any reason at all."

Indecision warred on his face, but he finally nodded. He pointed to me, then signed again. This time I was ready, and I was able to interpret him correctly. He wanted me to be happy. "That's very kind, but I'm not going to be happy if I spend the entire time worrying about you. The certificate doesn't expire, so we can wait until you're ready."

_I M. _He still didn't look 100% sure, but he obviously wanted to try. "Ok, then. If you change your mind, you can always text me and I'll come pick you up."

_No! For god's sake, Kurt, why don't you just give him a bottle and some diapers if you're going to baby him like that? Tell him that he'll be fine, and that you'll see him this evening. He's allowing you to cue him right now, so if you act confident, he'll _be_ confident._

Made sense. "But I'm sure you'll be fine. It's just a few hours, then you and I will have plenty to tell each other later tonight. Unless you want to get a cucumber scrub while you're reading the latest issue of French Vogue. Then you could come with us."

The expression on Finn's face suggested that he would rather boil himself in oil while having his eyes plucked out by parrots then be subjected to that. But I could also tell that he didn't want to offend me by actually saying that, so he just stood there watching me. I tried to hide my laughter. "I'm guessing that that's a no?"

He nodded, still trying to hide his horror. "Good, then, take your shower and thank you again for breakfast."

To my great surprise, Finn had cleaned the kitchen up as well. Actually, now that I thought about it, he had become extremely tidy in all ways. He cleared the table after dinner, I didn't have to scream at him to pick up his dirty clothes or rinse the sink out after he brushed his teeth. He didn't wear his clothes for more then one day in a row, and he even stripped his bed regularly. In other words, he was totally different. I wondered what had made him that way, then thought that maybe it was better that I didn't know after all.

I washed the dishes, humming contentedly to myself. Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and I turned to see my father. "Hi, Dad."

"Hi. You're up early, considering that you're going to be doing all of your showering and moisturizing and shit at the spa." He was yawning as he started the coffee pot. Considering that Dad was the only one who drank regular coffee, and that Finn had taken care of everything else, I had to assume that not doing it was a deliberate snub on Finn's part. I wasn't going to bring that up, though. There was enough going wrong between them without adding more.

"Finn brought me breakfast in bed. I think he's a little excited about going to Mr. Shuester's today."

He fiddled with the coffee maker for a minute before giving me a long look. "Look, Kurt, you know that I don't entirely approve of that, but Finn is Carole's son, and she has the final say. It's just that…Finn will be okay over there, right? That teacher of yours won't do anything to him?"

I was pretty sure that it was too late for any of us to worry about someone abusing Finn. "Yes, Dad, it will be fine. Mr. Shuester's a good guy, and he won't let anything happen to Finn."

"I hope so." Dad's voice told me that he didn't entirely believe me.

_If anyone had been this worried about Finn and what he was doing Before, he wouldn't have come up missing in the first place._

That train of thought was interrupted by Carole. "Hey, guys, who's ready for breakfast?" 

"I am. Apparently Finn already cooked for himself and Kurt." Dad was already absorbed in the paper.

"He did? Are you sure?" Her eyes went narrow. "I didn't hear the smoke alarm."

So the rumors I had heard from both Puck and Quinn were apparently true. Still, I felt compelled to defend Finn. "He actually did really well. Less bacon would have been nice, but I understand that he has an obsession with pork fat, so I'll let that go. Damn the fact that it doesn't make him gain ten pounds like it does to me."

Carole laughed. "He does have an amazing metabolism. He gets that from his father. Kurt, you do have my work number, right? I know you know the number to the garage, but I want you to be able to get me in an emergency, too."

"I have your work and your cell. But I won't be with Finn, remember? He's going to Mr. Shue's and I'm going with Mercedes."

"I know. But I want you to be as safe as Finn is, and to know that you can always call me if something's wrong." Her eyes met mine as she spoke, and I could see the protectiveness in them.

If it had been Dad, I probably would have screamed. But things were different with Carole, and I smiled instead. "Thank you. I have both numbers." I had always had both numbers, ever since I first found out that Carole and Finn were moving in with us, but I had never really felt like she wanted me to use them. Until now. I crept towards her and wrapped my arms around her body, pressing my face into her shoulder. Her fingers scraped along my back, telling me she understood what I was trying to say, and that she loved me, too.

The stairs creaked, and Finn appeared, his hair still damp from his shower. He bounded over to Carole, giving her an enthusiastic kiss. Dad got a tiny wave, which would have been an improvement if we didn't all know that even the slightest movement on Dad's part would cause him to panic and bolt back down the stairs.

Instead, Dad looked at me. "So, go over today's plans one more time for your old man."

This was more to soothe our nerves then because he genuinely didn't know, but I went along with it. "Finn and I will be leaving in a few minutes, as soon as I get my stuff together. We're going to pick up Mercedes, then drop Finn off at Mr. Shuester's. Mr. Shue will call you when we get there. Then it's off to the spa for Mercedes and I, where we'll be all day. Then we're going out to dinner at Hannah Flannigan's. Finn, I'm assuming that Mr. Shue will feed you. I'll drop Mercedes off, then pick Finn up. You and Carole should go on a date yourselves. Somewhere that isn't Breadstixx, for the love of Prada. Dad, somewhere where Carole can wear that beautiful red dress."

They exchanged looks, and a message passed between them that I couldn't read. It irritated me, because it hadn't been that long ago that I could have read anything that popped up on Dad's face, and now I couldn't. I couldn't always read Finn either, not since he had come back, and I could hardly ever read Carole. I despised not knowing what was going on around me, because being vigilant was the only thing that had kept me alive this long. Knowing who was an ally, who would bully me, and who might actually take things too far was a valuable skill, perfected through necessity.

She cleared her throat. "Actually, we do have a date, but not for dinner. If either one of you need us, don't hesitate to call."

I was curious, and, judging by the look on his face, so was Finn, but the subject was apparently closed. I turned to look at him. "You coming?"

Really, I needn't have asked. With Carole about to leave, there was no way Finn would risk being alone upstairs with my father. He followed me back downstairs and threw himself on the bed, paging through the sign language book. He didn't really seem to be looking for anything, just picking through the pages.

I chatted with him while I dressed, always keeping one eye on Finn. He didn't act uncomfortable, even when I stripped down to my underwear, but he didn't look up either. That meant that the voice was wrong, right? If Finn was interested in me, why would he pass up a chance to ogle the goods?

_Finn has other things on his mind at the moment. Be patient, and, for God's sake, Kurt, be gentle. The love will come in time._

My inner voice sounded an awful lot like a bad self help book. I picked a pair of white jeans and a black and white striped top. "How do I look?" 

Finn gave me a thumbs up, but he looked troubled. "What's wrong? Too much white? Do I have a stain?" I checked myself out from all angles, but I couldn't figure out what was wrong.

He shook his head, then crooked one finger in a 'come here' gesture. I sat on the edge of his bed, folding my hands in my lap. "Tell me."

For a few minutes I didn't think he would. He stared at the comforter, one hand idly stroking Wolf's furry mane. Then, without ever raising his eyes, he put up his right hand and started signing. This time he was moving slowly enough that I could understand every letter. _P-U-C-K-S D-E-A-D._

Bile rose up in the back of my throat. No one had said anything to Finn about Puck since he came back, since none of us knew how to do so. Never, in my wildest (and most horrible) fantasies, did I imagine that he would try and bring it up to me. Should I lie? Pawn him off on Carole? Call the therapist?

_No, no, and no. You know how to handle this._

Except I was afraid. My voice came out surprisingly steady, considering the emotion that threatened to swell it shut. "Are you asking me or telling me?" 

He didn't need speech to make his next point clear. The withering look was more then enough_. Don't treat me like an idiot, Kurt. We both know that I'm telling you, and we both know that you can handle this correctly._

Once the panic faded, I realized that I did know how to handle this. Finn wanted me to validate his own knowledge, to tell him that his memories were correct. So I reached out and stroked his wrist, feeling the rapid thrumming of the pulse under his skin. "Yes, Finn, Puck is dead."

He nodded once, then stood up. I followed, not sure what was going on. "Do you want to talk more about it?" Was this it? Was he going to finally tell me what we had all wondered about for almost six months?

Only, he didn't. He just started towards the stairs, pointing at the door at the top. "Ok, then." If that single sentence was all that Finn could get out right now, that was ok, right? It was an improvement, and we had seen too few of those so far. At least he remembered what had happened; he hadn't pushed it out of his mind completely.

_And he trusted you enough to bring it up. Not Carole, not your father, maybe not even his therapist, but you. That's important, Kurt, so don't screw this up._

Only I didn't know exactly how to keep from screwing it up. If I told Carole that he had brought up Puck, she wasn't going to let him leave the house. Then it would ruin the plans that all four of us had. Plus, Finn would be pissed off that I had told on him. But she was his mother, and she deserved to know. No matter what I picked, someone would be unhappy with me.

_Drop Finn off at Mr. Shue's then call her and let her know. Finn will never find out that it was you who blabbed._

Of course he would know that it as me who blabbed. Dr. Hayden had told us that she wasn't allowed to tell us anything he said, and Finn would know that he hadn't told anyone else. But at least we would all get in one good day before it came crashing down.

Finn was waiting patiently at the front door, ready for whatever the day was going to bring. That was good, too. He was trying so hard to confront his fears and it was obvious that the only reason he was considering leaving the house at all was that he loved Mr. Shue so much. I twirled my keys on my finger. "Ready, Cowboy?" 

He gave one quick nod, visibly steeling himself for what was to come. "Ok. Dad, Carole, we're leaving!"

I was hoping that Carole wouldn't leave the kitchen or make a big deal out of this. If she did, I was pretty sure that Finn would panic. We were all supposed to be acting normal, and just letting us go would be the best thing for the entire family. Of course, knowing that didn't do much when you're a mother whose child is leaving the house for only the second time since his kidnapping six months earlier.

Though it must have hurt her, she stayed where she was. "Bye boys, have a good time!"

"Bye! Finn says bye, too!" In fact, he had made no such gesture, but I knew that Carole would appreciate hearing it.

Again, Finn needed me to hold his hand on the way out to the car, but he seemed less anxious then before. He was actually looking around our yard like he was interested in the landscaping and the neighbors houses, as opposed to looking for the boogeyman in the corners.

_The boogeyman is real, Kurt. Finn knows it and so do you. _

The man who had taken Finn wasn't the boogeyman. He was a sick pervert, and he was a killer, but he was just a man. No supernatural demon, no vampire, no Frankenstein's monster. Just a man.

_Hitler was just a man, too. Human monsters can be worse and more brutal then fictional ones._

I had nothing to say to that, because the voice was right. I gave my head a quick shake to clear it and tossed my phone over to Finn. "Text Mercedes and let her know that we're on our way."

He was happy to do so, his fingers tapping rapidly over the buttons. The was a brief pause, then the phone flashed once, telling me that she had replied. "Is she ready?"

A nod. "Are _you _ready?"

This time he actually rolled his eyes while he was nodding. Yes, he was ready, and he was getting tired of being constantly asked about it. "No need to be snippy."

He stuck out his tongue, and I made a playful grab for it. He pulled back quickly, but stuck it out again as soon as he was sure he was out of range. Finn and I had interacted almost constantly since he had come back, but this was the first time I had actually seen him be playful towards me. It was a sweet moment, and I was hoping that it was a good omen for what was coming.

When we pulled up to Mercedes' house, Finn got out and climbed into the backseat, signaling to her that she could sit up front because she was the girl. Since he didn't know the sign for girl, he just made one up, one which involved groping his fake boobs. Mercedes pretended to be horrified, but I could tell that she secretly wanted to laugh. She reached back and patted his shoulder. "Hi, White Boy."

He waved cheerfully, then went back to looking out the window. She and I talked about the difference services we were going to get, arguing over which type of massage was best, and making plans for dinner. Finn listened, but added nothing.

Mr. Shue's apartment was upstairs, so I parked. "'Cedes, I'm going to walk Finn inside, ok? We'll just be a minute. Jump out, Finn."

He seemed eager to go, almost dragging me up the stairs. Mr. Shue greeted us both warmly, and I took a minute to say hi and go back over the plans for today. "You're okay with feeding him both lunch and dinner right?"

"Of course. I have no one else to cook for these days, so I'll be nice to have another person around. What do you think, Finn? Pizza for lunch and fajitas for dinner?"

That was all it took for Finn to ditch me without a second thought. Mr. Shue laughed. "Movies are in the cabinet by the TV, go ahead and pick one." He waited until Finn was out of the room and leaned closer. "Anything I should know?"

It was nice that he hadn't said anything in front of Finn. Finn wasn't stupid, and he understood that people talked around him like there was something wrong with his ears. "Yeah. He brought up Puck this morning. Told me that he knew Puck was dead. He didn't seem that freaked out about it, but he definitely remembers what happened that night. Just keep an eye on him, and call me if anything happens or you need me to come get him."

He just looked at me for a minute, and I was terrified that he was going to back out and I was going to either have to take Finn to the spa or cancel the trip. The thought of him lumbering around the spa, trying to eat tiny cookies and deal with a mud mask was amusing in its own way, but it wasn't realistic.

Finally, he spoke, one hand resting on my shoulder. "Kurt, go with Mercedes and have your fun day, alright? Finn will be fine, I'll be fine, and if there's any problem, I'll call your parents. You go act like a kid for a while, instead of an adult. You know how, I've seen you."

It would be great if I could do that, but I knew that I couldn't. In a twisted way, Finn was mine, my responsibility, my love, and it was hard enough to let him stay here. "I will."

As if our words had summoned him, Finn reappeared in the doorway, a copy of Braveheart clutched in one hand. He seemed a little confused to still see me there. I didn't want to stress him, so I smiled and waved. "Bye, Finn, I'll see you in a few hours."

His sign of 'bye' was accompanied by a look that suggested I needed to get the hell out of there. He was content and wanted Mr. Shue all to himself for a while. I'm capable of taking a hint, so I nodded and turned back down the stairs.

Mercedes was waiting in the car, watching me with poorly disguised curiosity. "How did it go? No crying, no trauma?" Her tone told me that she already knew the answer, and that she just wanted to hear me say it.

"No, Finn was just fine. He was happy and is probably watching Braveheart right now and admiring Mel Gibson before he went all crazy. You were right, he's fine." In my heart, I had known that he would be. This was how I should have started him out before, a trip to a place he was familiar with, with one man who he knew well and trusted. A place that was small enough for him to feel safe in. Not a crowded shopping mall filled with God knows who.

"Good." She rubbed my shoulder and I found myself leaning into her touch. "Now, you can quit worrying about him for just enjoy the day"

Everyone seemed to think that it was just that easy, like I could snap my fingers and turn the worry off. But I was going to try, because I had to. I knew that Mercedes and Dad were worried about Finn getting too dependant on me, which I guessed could happen, but I knew that it was just as likely that I would get too dependant on him, on his needing me, which wouldn't be good either. "Of course." I managed to project my voice in a way that sounded confident instead of worried.

"Great. So, where do we start?"

I forced Finn to the back of my mind. I could do this. "I was thinking we start with the massages, just to get rid of all the tension, and go from there?" I hated that I had become tentative and unsure of myself, especially with Mercedes.

"Sounds good." She turned the radio on low, and we spend the rest of the drive debating whether or not I should go back to the Cheerios, and what songs would be good to try in Glee next year, provided we could recruit some new members. Neither one of us brought up Finn, or whether or not he would be able to come back to school at all, much less the Glee Club.

Once we got there, it was easier to forget Finn for a little while. Actually, by the time the first massage was done, and I was so relaxed I had all but poured myself to the floor; it was easy to forget my own first name. Then came the mud masks, and the facials and this was heaven on earth, the only heaven I believed in.

Still, by the time we were both getting exfoliating scrubs, the nerves were back full force. Would Mr. Shue try me first if there was a problem, or would he get Carole and Dad? If Carole was still shopping, Dad wasn't going to know what to do. Maybe I should call and check up on him.

_No, you shouldn't. Your father isn't a stupid man. If Mr. Shue calls, he knows that he should get Carole instead of trying to deal with Finn himself. Take a deep breath, enjoy some chocolate dipped fruit, and leave Finn alone. He's fine._

That voice hadn't steered me wrong yet, so I nodded weakly. This was my special time with Mercedes, and it wasn't fair for me to be constantly thinking about Finn.

We took a break for a light lunch about 2, during which we argued about whether or not Rachel would come back from France with an even more horrible wardrobe (of course), If American Idol should have another season, or just quit now (I'm a big believer in going out while you're on top), and if Karofsky was actually just a homophobic asshole, or in the closet (I thought he was an asshole, Mercedes swore she saw him look at Puck's butt one day). It was strange that she and I could mention Puck's name without breaking down, like we had at first. Slowly but surely, the pain was receding. It would never go away entirely, but we were making progress.

For a few minutes we were quiet, just eating and thinking our own thoughts. Then she put a hand under my chin and gently pulled my head up. "Finn will be ok. Maybe not the same as he was before, but he'll make it through."

I wished I could believe that. That Finn had a chance, despite it all, of finishing highs school and making a life for himself. That he wasn't going to be confined to the basement for the rest of his life, afraid of every little sound. Unfortunately, not much that had happened so far was giving me a lot of hope. Why wasn't Finn better then he was? But I couldn't tell her that, so I forced a smile. "I know. He's tough."

_Tough enough to make it through Puck's death, through whatever that man did to him, and home again. Tough enough to do all that without totally losing his mind, just parts of it. And Kurt? It's not over yet. He's going to have to be tough enough to face what's coming, and that's going to be the hardest part of all._

I was still trying to figure out what that could possibly mean when I felt something hard pushed into my hand. I looked down, surprised to see my cell phone. Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Call him."

I tried to salvage my dignity. "No. Finn's perfectly fine; Mr. Shue would have called if he wasn't." My fingers tightened on the phone even as I tried to make myself give it back.

"Do it or I _will_ hurt you. You look like I've killed your puppy, and this is supposed to be a fun day." She didn't really sound angry, and I was willing to bet that there was a part of her that was as worried about Finn as I was.

My traitorous fingers dialed before I could stop them. The phone rang once, twice, three times….then a voice picked up. "This is Will Shuester."

"Hi, it's Kurt." I could feel my face flushing as I spoke. It was embarrassing to be speaking to him, to have him know that I needed Finn far more then he needed me. "I was just making sure that Finn's alright."

Luckily he didn't make a big deal out of it. "Hi, Kurt. Finn's doing great. We had pizza for lunch, and now he's helping me sort the sheet music for next year. Do you want to talk to him?"

"Can he hear you right now?" If Finn knew I was calling up and checking on him after just a few hours, he would be irritated. But if he could hear me, and knew that I had called and not wanted to speak to him, his feelings would be hurt.

"No, he's in the living room." Mr. Shue must have understood where I was going with this, because his voice dropped a bit. "I'm guessing that this should be a secret call?" 

A part of me felt bad for doing this to Finn, but the larger part knew that it was for the best. "Please. I don't want him to feel smothered."

"I'll do that. Should I expect you about 7?" Before I could reply he cut himself off. "Hang on, Mom. Finn, don't file anything under 'the'. Just go with the second word, ok? Alright, let me know if you have any other questions."

My heart stuttered when I heard a soft sound. Had Finn just talked? "Did he say something?"

"What? No, it was just one of my students tapping on the doorframe." He sounded so unbearably sad that I regretted bringing it up at all. I knew that I wasn't the only one wishing that Finn would get better.

"Thanks again, Mr. Shuester. I'll let you know when we're on our way."

"No problem, Mom, I'll see you later and have a good time at the casino." He hung up.

Mercedes lasted about 10 seconds before she had to ask. "So, he's ok?" 

"Yeah. He's helping Mr. Shue alphabetize sheet music. Slave labor, you know."

"I'm sure he's getting paid in food. Anyway, does Finn know his entire alphabet?" Her voice was teasing.

"Know it? Yes. Is he capable of putting things in the correct order? Doubtful." I could never understand how Finn could verbally alphabetize things, and do it very well, but be hopeless when it came to the doing. She laughed, and I saw my best friend again, the one that I had been neglecting. "Have I told you how much I love you today?"

She wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "I'm over you, sweetie. But I love you, too, in the most platonic way possible."

"I'm sorry I've been so caught up in Finn's drama that I've been ignoring you." I didn't know how to make her understand how much I appreciated her presence, from the moment Finn came up missing, up until this morning.

"You haven't been ignoring me, and, let's face it; you and Finn need each other. Maybe not in the way you would like it, but he's definitely looking at you different now."

So I wasn't the only one who noticed. "I think it's just that I'm the only one who understands him most of the time. Carole tries, but she works a lot and it's hard for her to spend as much time with him as I do."

Her eyes narrowed, and I was struck with the sudden thought that this was exactly what the voice in my head would look like if it were human. It was spooky. "I think it's more then that. I don't know exactly what it is, but more then just you knowing what he wants."

_Hear! Hear! Finn wants Kurt to-"_

I gave the voice a mental shut down before it could complete that thought. The worst part was, I wasn't sure if I was hoping that Finn was completely attracted to me, or that he wasn't. Everything was so confusing right now that I could barely breathe. "I think you're imagining things."

"And I think you're in denial. But, whatever, you do whatever makes you happy and keeps you from getting that deer in the headlights look." She stood up. "Are you ready for the sauna?" 

"Certainly." She wouldn't let this go for long, but I was grateful for even a small reprieve.

_Wuss_

I might have been able to shut Mercedes up, but I couldn't turn off my own brain. It continued to nag at me, until I was forced to speak. Luckily I could blame my flush on the heat from the sauna. "Mercedes?" She gave me a look that was half curious, half knowing. "Do you really think that Finn looks at me differently now?" I thought so, but I had a history of reading things into Finn's actions that weren't actually there.

"Of course he does. It's like…like you're a stranger to him now."

Well,_ that_ was reassuring. "Thanks, Mercedes, that helps." I muttered dryly.

She huffed. "No, not like that. It's not like he doesn't know who you are, he knows that you're Kurt; it's more like he's trying to figure out what that means. What you mean to him now, as opposed to what you meant to him…well, before."

I wondered if 'Before' had a capital letter in her mind, too. "What do you think I mean to him?"

She looked at me for a long time, her expression a mixture of pity and sadness. "I don't know, Kurt. Hell, _you _don't know, and you live with him. What I do know is that you need to move carefully. Neither one of us should assume that he wants anything at all. Just be still and let him come to you."

"That's what I keep doing. I keep letting him approach me, and let him do what he thinks is right, but not pushing him at all, but he never gets any better. I mean, shouldn't something be different by now?" 

I was whining, and I knew exactly how unattractive that was, but I couldn't help it. She shrugged. "He's out of the house, away from you, and he seems to be doing pretty damn well. That sounds different then it was before."

She had a point. "I want too much, don't I?" That was my problem, I always wanted too much. But when I had spent most of my life having nothing, it was hard not to cling desperately when I actually got close to something I wanted.

There was pause, and I could tell she was trying to figure out a tactful way to say what she wanted to. Finally, she came up with something. "I wouldn't say that you want too _much_, nessacerily, but maybe you want it too _fast_. You need to let things happen at their own pace instead of trying to push them to happen at your pace. Finn's improving all the time, and pushing him is only going to backfire."

"I guess that makes sense." I couldn't make her understand my sense or urgency in the matter, because I didn't really understand it myself. I just had the unsettling sense that I needed to get Finn on my side soon, that we were going to need that bond, or it would be too late.

_Too late for what?_

I didn't know that either, and the worry made my stomach clench. I spent the rest of the day playing the part, but most of the fun had gone out of the day. Despite my best efforts, I was pretty sure that Mercedes noticed, but she didn't say anything about it. I had to force myself to enjoy what should have been a fun and special day.

I did perk up for dinner, which was Chinese. I seldom got to eat it at home, because Dad didn't like it. I had had high hopes when he started bringing Carole and Finn around, but it turned out that Finn was allergic to MSG, and he couldn't eat it either. Carole had taken me out for it twice, and, while I had never told her so, I had appreciated the gesture.

In a rare gesture, Mercedes offered me her fortune cookie, so I could take it home to Finn. "I know he likes them, because he always tries to mooch them off Puck." Then what had she said sunk in. "I guess I mean that he always tried to mooch them off Puck. That isn't going to happen any more."

No, it wouldn't. But he could mooch my fortune cookies, which was kind of the same, right?

_No, because it's not about the cookies._

I knew that it wasn't about the cookies, but I had no idea how to even begin solving Finn's larger problems, so I had to stick with what I could fix. "So, are we ready to go pick him up?" Mr. She would have called if there was an issue, but it was nearly six now, and I was sure that the man was tired of being Finn's entertainment.

"Yeah, we're ready." We had already paid, so we walked together out the front door. She smiled at me. "Do you want to call him or should I?"

"I'll do it." I dialed from memory, all but bouncing on my toes as I waited for Mr. Shue to pick up.

"Hi, Kurt, are you on your way home?" At my affirmative, he continued on. "Finn and I just sat down to dinner, so we should be finishing up right when you get here. Did you have a good time at the spa?"

"I did, thank you again for the certificate. Do the two of you need a little more time to eat?" I was desperately hoping that he would say no. Maybe Mercedes claiming that Finn and I were getting codependent wasn't as far off the mark as I had wanted to think it was.

"No, we should be fine. Oh, wait, Finn wants to talk to you. Hang on a second." There was s shuffling, and, just like always, I hoped that Finn would pick up the phone and just start jabbering away at me. He didn't but I could hear his breathing on the line, so I knew he had picked up. "Hey, Cowboy, how's it going?"

_Yeah, because he can answer that._

I backed up and tried again. "I'm guessing that it went well. I'll be there in about an hour, so eat quick, which shouldn't be a problem for you. Mercedes brought you a present, too." That would make him happy, and, sure enough, his breathing increased. "I'll see you, Finn, ok?" There was a series of beeps, which made me think he was pressing the buttons on the phone. "I'll take that as a yes. Bye." I hung up the phone and sighed deeply.

There wasn't anything else for either Mercedes or I to say, so I put the car in drive and turned the radio on. Lady Gaga was playing, but hearing her only reminded me that that was the last project that we had worked on in Glee. Well, _I_ had worked on it. Finn had insisted on doing KISS.

_And he looked so damn good doing it._

Yes he had. I forced that thought out of my mind, though, because I was not going to fall into the same trap of perving on my brother. That last night of Before, he had made it very clear that he wasn't the slightest bit interested in me.

The voice fell silent at that, and remained silent for the rest of the ride. Mercedes and I talked, and made plans to get together with the rest of the club in a few days. Rachel would be back from France soon, and I was dreading the inevitable confrontation between us when she found out that Finn was back. We had debated telling her, but if we did, she would come rushing home and totally overwhelm him. There were parts of Rachel I liked, and parts that I didn't like but did respect, and parts that I hated, but she did everything with maximum drama, and Finn didn't need any of that.

She would probably try and make him sing it out, which could only end in disaster. Or maybe not. Rachel was stubborn, but, ever since we got him back, Finn was attempting to redefine the term. I was pretty sure that she wasn't going to be able to force him to do anything, but it might be funny to watch her try. I said that to Mercedes, who started laughing. "If I wasn't so sure that it would only end up freaking him out, I would pay to see it."

That broke some of the tension in the car, and we were able to keep up an easy conversation for the rest of the ride. It was nice to have it just be the two of us again. I hated to talk in front on Finn like he wasn't even present, since so many people did that, but I knew that he had no interest in 90% of what she and I wanted to talk about.

Mercedes gave me a kiss when she got out of the car. "Call me when you get to Shuester's, ok? I need to know you're alright."

We always called each other when we got somewhere now. If that rule had been in effect Before, it might not have saved Puck, but we would have called the police a lot sooner, and maybe we would have been able to keep that man from taking Finn out of Lima. "Of course."

I kept singing on my way to Mr. Shue's, mostly to keep myself company. I was so seldom alone these days that it felt strange not to look over and see another person looking back at me. I didn't like the feeling, especially knowing that whoever took Finn might still be out there, waiting for another chance.

I knocked on the door, only to hear Mr. Shue calling me and telling me that the door was open. The pair of them were doing the dishes side by side, but when Finn saw me he bounced over for an enthusiastic hug. His hands were wet and soapy, leaving spots on my shirt, but I hugged him back as tightly as I could. He grunted a little as the air left his lungs, but didn't let go. I nodded at Mr. Shue, who was watching us with an interested look. "Did the two of you have fun?"

Finn nodded happily, and Mr. Shue smiled. "We did. Thanks to Finn, we managed to get almost all of the sheet music for next year organized. It's nice to have some company around here." He smiled paternally at Finn, who all but melted at the gesture. Why was it that he was too terrified of Dad to even make eye contact, but would do anything for Mr. Shue?

I had been released from Finn's tight grip, but he still had one hand resting on my back, as if to reassure himself that, yes, I was still here, that I had actually come back for him like I said I would. I knew that Mr. Shue noticed, but he didn't call any attention to it. "Finn, you've been a great help today, and feel free to come by any time. Kurt, you can come by as well. If you need to go, I can finish the dishes up myself since there're only a few left."

"Thank you Mr. Shue, for everything. I'm sure that Finn's mother is dying to see him and make sure that he's alright." At my side, Finn gestured a 'thank you' and 'goodbye' of his own.

Finn still wanted me to go down the stairs first, presumably so I could check everything out and make sure it was safe for him, but he didn't seem as hesitant to follow has he had been before. Actually, he was almost leaping down the stairs after me, flushed and overexcited. This had been good for him, a positive experience that would hopefully negate some of the negative ones he had recently had.

Once we were in the car, seatbelts on, he held out his hand, asking for something. I stared in confusion. "What?"

He signed a quick 'M' and held his hand out again. "What do you-oh, you want your present from Mercedes?" I rummaged in my bag until I found the fortune cookie, slightly cracked but not crushed. "Here you go."

It was just a cookie, but Finn acted like it was the greatest thing he had ever been given. That was one thing that I had always admired about him. He was happy to have the smallest thing, as happy with a cookie as he would have been with a diamond. His ability to enjoy the little things in life was beyond precious and probably a lesson I should be taking notes in.

He opened the wrapper and broke the cookie in half, teasing the paper fortune out and putting it in his pocket without looking. Then he offered me a piece of the cookie. I took it, even though my thighs would be punishing me for it later. He crunched happily, then made gestures to ask about my day. "Fantastic. There were massages and cucumber masks and pedicures and-"I went on and on, until Finn's eyes were starting to get that glazed over look that suggested he wished he hadn't asked in the first place.

Dad and Carole were waiting for us when we got home, both of them trying not to be obvious about it, and both of them failing miserably. "Hi, boys, did you both have good days?" Carole wrapped her arms around Finn and kissed the top of his head as she spoke.

He nodded contentedly and nuzzled up against her, obviously happy to be home. She looked over his head and held out an arm for me, too. I went to her, and she squeezed me quickly, pulling my body so it was against Finn's for a brief second. "You smell good; did you have a good time at the spa?"

Need she even ask? "I did. It was really, really great to see Mercedes again, and we got to spend the entire day together. It was perfect. What did the two of you do tonight?"

Dad cleared his throat. "We went down to Home Depot so we could start looking at plans for the addition." He gestured to a pile of papers on the table. "We found 5 that could work, so Finn, you can pick which one you like best."

Finn didn't want to choose any of them, I could tell. He didn't want to sleep in an addition, alone and away from the rest of the family. He might still not be thrilled with sharing the basement with me, but it was still better then having to be by himself.

To my surprise, Dad read Finn's face, even though my brother refused to look at him. "I will probably take a few months to get everything up and functional, and if you change your mind and would rather keep sharing with Kurt, it's fine. But now that this family has doubled in size, we need more room. If you don't want to sleep in it, I'll move my office in there. Plus, we need another bathroom."

That we certainly did. I knew that I took forever in the downstairs bathroom, and Carole needed the upstairs one to get ready for work, which left Finn and Dad at loose ends. It wasn't so bad now, since Finn and I didn't need to be anywhere early, but once school started again, it was going to be hard.

_Do you honestly thing Finn's going to be attending school in September? Kurt, that's just a few weeks away._

_Shut up_. I wasn't going to acknowledge that the voice was probably right, that Finn wasn't going to make it back into school by the beginning of the year, but there was always hope. The materials for him to make up the end of his sophomore year had arrived, and we were going to start working on them tomorrow, as soon as possible.

Finn glanced over at me, and I gave him my most encouraging smile. "I think it sounds great. Bring them over here and we'll decide which one is most complementary to both the structure and flow of the existing structure."

He didn't understand me, of course, but he didn't have to. He understood what I was really saying, which was that I wanted him to come over and sit by me; away from Dad, and that I would help him make the choice.

Carole looked at both of us as Finn gathered the papers up and came to sit next to me, and I was a little unnerved by the intensity of her gaze. She knew something was different between us, just like Mercedes had. What was it that they could both see and I couldn't?

Then Finn was at my side, his shoulder touching mine as he spread out the different floor plans. He smelled good, and I wanted nothing more then to lean into him and take a quick inhale. I didn't though, because, while Finn might not notice, both of our parents certainly would. So I made myself sit down and look over the plans. "Ok, Finn, ready to go over these?"

His smiled and gave me a quick thumbs up, looking so much like his old self that I felt a pang somewhere in the vicinity of my heart. Finn was going to be ok, I knew he was.

_Of course he will_

I wished I could believe it.


	14. Chapter 14

"_**Sometimes**____**a**____**breakdown**____**can**____**be**____**the**____**beginning**____**of**____**a**____**kind**____**of**____**breakthrough,**____**a**____**way**____**of**____**living**____**in**____**advance**____**through**____**a**____**trauma**____**that**____**prepares**____**you**____**for**____**a**____**future**____**of**____**radical**____**transformation.**__**"**_

_**Cherrie**____**Moraga**___

Over the next week, Finn changed completely. According to Dad, he was undergoing a 'sea change', which was a major transformation. In my opinion, the only thing he was doing was making us sea_sick_.

He was less docile, less calm. He didn't want to hang around with me all the time any more, and a lot of the time, he didn't want to hang around me at all. He would rather sit alone in the basement or the back room, studying the walls and rocking himself from foot to foot. It was creepy to watch, and, for the first time, I was wondering if Finn was as disturbed as everyone else seemed to think he was. He certainly appeared that way.

It had all started going downhill the day after Mercedes and I had gone to the spa, which was the day Quinn Fabray had decided to come over for an unexpected visit. I hadn't wanted her to see Finn at all, but I hadn't really had any reason to deny her access. The best I had been able to do was stall her while I went downstairs to ask Finn if he would like some company.

Unfortunately, he had been enthusiastic about seeing her, and I had been forced to allow her inside. Finn had come racing up the stairs to see her, only to halt so suddenly that he almost tripped over his own feet once they were actually in the same room. He froze, still staring at her, and I had no idea what his problem was or how to fix it.

They might have stood there forever, except Quinn put her fingers to her mouth, looking like she was going to start crying at any second. The she reached out for him and whispered "Oh, Finn."

That seemed to break whatever spell Finn was under, and he crept forward to wrap his arms around her. He didn't cry of course, since Finn didn't cry in front of anyone but me these days, but she did. Looking at them, I was reminded of all the times I had seen him hold her like that during the early days of her pregnancy, when he had been convinced that he was going to be a father. I felt unaccountably like a creeper, like I was intruding where I wasn't needed, so I excused myself from the room.

As it turned out, that had probably been a mistake. Quinn had stayed close to two hours, and I stubbornly remained downstairs for the entire visit, doing and redoing my nails until I had filed them down to practically nothing. I went to the top of the stairs twice, but couldn't hear anything, so I finally gave up and laid down on my bed to sulk. Now that Quinn was back in the picture and sexy again despite having given birth, the two of them were probably upstairs making out.

_That isn't a bad thing, Kurt. You wanted Finn to be more social and less dependant on you, so don't complain__ when it actually happens. He needs you, yes, but he's going to need everyone if he's going to get through this intact._

Yes, that was true, but it still kind of hurt my feelings that Finn had dropped me like a hot rock as soon as a better (read: more popular) option came along. I wasn't sure exactly when I fell asleep, but I was woken up by Finn's footsteps on the stairs. He stared at me what felt like forever, not making any effort to communicate. I sat up, feeling heavy and groggy. "What's up, Cowboy?"

He stared for another minute or two, then abruptly threw himself down on his bed, curling up on his side and shutting me out. Still confused, I went over to his bed and laid my hand on his shoulder. "Finn?"

He jerked away, his muscles going rigid under my touch. I pulled back as if he had struck me, startled by his reaction. The only other time I could remember him doing that was Before, when I had tried to help him get the KISS make-up off of his face. "Are you feeling alright?

In response, Finn squeezed his eyes shut, his arms wrapping tightly around his body. He couldn't have said 'leave me alone' any more clearly if he had screamed it at the top of his lungs, so I backed off. "Ok. I'll be upstairs if you need me."

He didn't respond at all, so I left him there to his own thoughts. As soon as I got upstairs, I dialed Quinn. Finn had been fine before I left them alone together, and now he was worse then when we had first gotten him back. She picked up on the third ring. "Kurt? What's up?" She sounded guilty, and I knew that she had done something wrong.

"What did you do to Finn?" My voice was as bitchy as I could make it.

"Nothing." There was no lie in her voice, but I knew that she knew more then she was saying. "I just talked to him for a while and caught him up on what I had been doing this summer. I thought that he might talk to me, but he didn't."

"Then why is he all curled up downstairs right now, acting like he doesn't even know who I am?" Now I sounded less bitchy and more scared.

She was quiet for a long time, and if it hadn't been for her breathing, I would have thought that I had lost the connection. "Quinn?"

"I'm not exactly sure what his problem is, but I can guess."

I waited, but nothing else came out. "And what is it that you guess his problem is?"

"He just….he seemed really confused when he saw that I wasn't pregnant any more. He just kept looking at my stomach and wanting to touch it, even after I showed him pictures of Beth. I think he expected that things would be the same for him as they were before, and he didn't know what to do when he realized that they weren't. He just kept looking at the pictures like he didn't know what to do with them."

Her theory made sense. "You didn't say anything to him about Puck did you?"

"Kurt, I might be blond and a Cheerio, but I'm not a moron. Nor am I cruel. I just talked to him about a little of the Glee gossip, and told him how much I had missed him. He wasn't that upset when I left." Her voice wavered between bitching and heartbroken.

Whether or not she was cruel was debatable, considering that I remembered her tearing down Rachel's Youtube videos, and, while she had never directly laid a hand on me, I knew that she had encouraged other people to. But that was an issue for another time. "I have to go. Some of us have to deal with the fallout of you running your mouth." It was horribly rude, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

Finn wasn't asleep when I went downstairs, but he was still curled up and ignoring me. I sat on the edge of his bed. "Finn, did Quinn say something to upset you? Is it because of the baby?"

He didn't open his eyes, but he grew even more tense, to the point of starting to tremble. I wanted to help him, but I had no idea how. So I patted his back and told him that I would be upstairs if he wanted company, otherwise I would leave him to his nap.

And that pretty much summed up the last five days. Finn slept almost constantly, and wouldn't get out of bed when he was awake. If he was forced (and by forced, I meant Carole tipped the mattress until he rolled off it then turned it so it was on its side and he couldn't climb back into bed), he move restlessly around the house, seeming to be in a trance. He wouldn't fight any of us, because that would take too much energy and caring. This was a passive rebellion, a sign that Finn had given up.

In addition to his moping, Finn quit showering and brushing his teeth, and Carole had to coax him to eat. He had completely stopped living, and nothing we did seemed to help.

Dr. Hayden came over on day five, and he refused to go up and see her. Undeterred, she marched down to the basement and conducted her session from there. We all respected Finn's privacy while she did so, but were waiting for her when she came back up. Carole broke the silence. "Is he going to be alright?"

"Honestly? I don't know. I think that this has all come crashing down for Finn, and that's very difficult for him. Do any of you know what may have happened to upset him?"

Both Dad and Carole looked at me, and I shrank down under their stares. Even though they both kept reassuring me that it wasn't my fault that Finn was doing so poorly, that I had no way of knowing what would happen, I was still the one who had let Quinn into the house, so it _was_ all my fault.

_Because keeping Finn in the basement, isolated from everyone who can possibly upset him is a viable option. That's going to make him mentally healthy, now isn't it? Quit second guessing everything you do. It's not helping and it's making you a nervous wreck._

Hesitantly I explained what had happened with Quinn. She nodded. "Kurt, this isn't your fault. Carole, you've already told me that you feel like Finn's been in denial about what happened, and I agreed. It's less stressful for Finn to pretend that nothing ever happened. To him, it's just like time has stopped. The four months he was missing? Never happened. Puck? Not dead."

Dad seemed confused. "That seems like a lot of mental gymnastics for one 17 year old."

"It is. Maintaining such an elaborate fantasy takes an enormous amount of mental energy. It may be one of the reasons that he isn't talking. Talking increases the chances that he comes out with something that disrupts the illusion. By not talking, he's drawing you into his world, instead of you making him come into yours."

"Then Quinn came." It was all falling into place for me.

"Yes, then Quinn came. In his mind, she's 7 months pregnant. But in reality, she isn't. Not only is she not pregnant, she's showing him pictures of a three month old baby, telling him that the baby is hers. Finn's fantasy world, which was never very stable, because it wasn't real, comes crashing down. Now he has to admit that, yes, those five months are gone, and, in doing so, he has to admit what happened to him. It's not an easy thing for him to do. Believe it or not, though, this is a step in the right direction for him, as difficult as it is."

"What do we do now?" The words must have been on all of our minds, but it was Carole who spoke.

"Love him. I know that you already do, but remind him of that fact as often as you can. That, no matter what happened; it doesn't change how you feel about him. Keep him with you as much as possible and be very gentle with him. Finn's not out of touch with reality, he's just trying to sort it all out in his own mind, and decided where he goes from here."

No one wanted to ask the question that hung heavily in the air: What if he _can't _cope with it all? Teenagers committed suicide every day, and over traumas far less then what Finn was going through. I couldn't make myself voice the words, though, as if saying them would give them power.

Dr. Hayden continued on. "Since Finn seems to be so affected, I'm going to prescribe a mild dose of antianxiety medication for him. It should help take the edge off and allow him to deal with things better."

This was real. They were actually talking about putting Finn on medication, because he had gotten so bad. Finn, my Finn, my hero and my first crush, was falling apart, and there was nothing I could do to fix him. The thought was actually painful, and I swallowed hard. Why was I never good enough for Finn?

_Your ego astounds me. Are you really whining about your straight friend/brother/crush/whatever you want to call him not returning your feelings when he's just trying to stay sane? Nice, Kurt, real nice. Why don't you try focusing on him for right now, and leave yourself out of it?_

"If Finn doesn't start getting better, even with the medication, you may want to consider a brief out of home placement for him. Just until we can get him eating normally and taking care of himself again."

The words themselves were spoken so softly and calmly that they took a minute to settle in. She wanted to put Finn in a mental ward. Even Finn's doctor thought that he was crazy. "No." The word came out before I could stop it. "No, that's not even an option."

"Kurt." Dad's voice was a warning, but I wasn't going to stop.

"No! She wants to put Finn in the loony bin, and no one else is saying not to. You just want to get rid of Finn because he doesn't like you!" The words hung in the air, despite my frantic efforts to call them back.

"Kurt, that isn't fair. We're all trying to determine what's best for Finn, and getting angry isn't going to help." This was why we had a doctor in the room, because she was the only thing keeping us from blowing up. "No one wants to put Finn in the '_loony bin_'. A short stay in a residential treatment hospital is a last resort in a case like his, but it is something that has to be considered. We're going to try medication first, and see if he pulls out of it on his own. There's a very fine line between taking him out of the house to help him, and just reinforcing the trauma of being forcibly taken from home."

I appreciated being spoken to like an adult, even if all I wanted to do was start crying like a little kid. "Finn needs to stay here, with us." My tone was all toddler.

I looked over at Carole for support, but she wasn't looking at me or Dad. She was looking at the doctor. "Can I pick up his prescription today? It would be better if you could get it in a liquid, because he sometimes has trouble swallowing pills."

Did she really not care that the doctor was talking about institutionalizing her son? Why was I the only one who seemed to care about keeping Finn at home?

_Because she's living in reality, and you aren't. You want to be enough for Finn, to make him better, but you can't. Carole knows that Finn needs more then the family can give him. She doesn't want him gone, so she's doing whatever she can to keep him home. Getting him started on medication is the first step._

I leaned back and started pitifully at Dad. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me to say. I know that you don't want to get rid of Finn." It was true. As badly as Finn frustrated Dad sometimes, we were a family, and we stuck together.

"I know." He gestured. "Why don't you go downstairs and let Finn know that his mother and I are going to the pharmacy at Wal-Mart, so if he wants something, he needs to let us know."

What he actually meant was that he wanted me out of the room, so the adults could discuss Finn in more depth. I considered spying on them, but decided to go down and sit with Finn instead. Maybe all he needed was a good shock.

Finn was lying in bed, but not sleeping. I could tell for sure, because he wasn't this still when he was asleep. I sat heavily on the edge of the bed, not surprised when he didn't acknowledge that I existed. With a shaky finger, I poked him in the shoulder. "Finn."

He didn't respond, so I poked him again, harder this time. "Finn, I know you aren't asleep, so get the fuck up."

I very seldom swore, since it's a sign not only of poor breeding, but a lack of imagination as well. Finn knew that, and the shock caused one of his eyes to pop open. I laid down next to him so our faces were almost touching. "You need to get out of his bed." My voice was a strict command.

Unfortunately, it didn't do much. Finn just closed his eye again and went back to pretending he was anywhere but here. I shook him again. "Get your ass up right now Finnegan. Dad and Carole are way too polite to say anything, but you _reek_! You've been lying in that bed, in those same disgusting pajamas for five days. Get up and take a shower. I'll make you a bacon club and red Doritos for lunch." That was Finn's favorite.

He didn't move. "Finn, now." I was using my toughest voice, the one that even made Karofsky back down sometimes, but he wasn't biting. Instead he went completely limp, blocking me out. I tugged his body, but he was too heavy to move. "I'm not kidding Finnegan."

Still nothing, and I felt a black rage bubble up in my chest. I leaned my face back down in his. "Finn, do you realize what's at stake here? They are getting ready to send you away."

Now both eyes were open, and he was staring at me with something akin to fear. It should have made me feel bad, but it only made me more angry. If Finn wanted to play rough, fine. I could play rough, too. "That's right, Finn. If you don't get out of this bed, and start acting normal, there going to send you off to a mental ward."

_Kurt! This isn't going to help, and it's cruel besides. Remember what I told you about your plans blowing up in your face? Yeah, this would be one of those plans._

But I was too far gone to stop. "I'm sure they'll let us visit once a week, though, so it's not like we'll be out of your life. Of course, it will be a locked ward-"Those were the magic words, and Finn shot upright, his entire body slamming back against the headboard. He shook his head frantically, obviously terrified at the thought of being locked up anywhere.

_Stop it now!_

Except Finn was finally responding to me, for the first time in five days. I patted his chest, feeling his heart jack hammering against my hand. "It's ok, it's ok." I waited until he stopped breathing so hard, then leaned my forehead against this. "You know, you could stop that from happening. All you have to do is talk. Not much, just a word or two. Then I'll bet they would stop talking about the mental hospital."

It was terrible and I knew it, but I couldn't make myself stop. Plus, it was true. There wasn't a thing wrong with Finn physically, it was all mental. He could damn well talk, and, if he did, it would end the discussions about institutionalizing him. I pushed helplessly against him, feeling the tightness in my own chest. "Talk, Finn!"

Tears welled up in his dark eyes, but he didn't speak. Instead he shook his head miserably. The utter desperation on his face cooled my anger. "Please, Finn, just talk." Now I was crying, too, and the guilt of what I was doing became overwhelming. "Please." My voice cracked on the last word.

If this had been the movies, that would have been enough to unlock Finn's voice. He would have spoken immediately, telling me how much he loved me, and that he appreciated my support over the past few weeks. Then he would tell me exactly what had happened to him, and give me the name of the man who had taken him. After his arrest, Dad would marry Carole, and we would be a real family.

_And unicorns will fart rainbows during the ceremony. Nothing is going to make Finn improve but time and a lot of work. This isn't the movies, and nothing is going to be resolved in two and a half hours._

I was crying freely now, and I let my head drop against Finn's chest. For a second he was still, then he wrapped his arms around my back, hugging my body against his. I squeezed him back, still crying into his old, disgusting T-shirt. I hadn't been lying when I told him that he smelled repulsive, but that didn't matter any more.

"I'm sorry, Finn, I'm sorry." My voice was whisper soft. "Please don't be mad, you don't have to talk, you don't have to do anything, just don't be mad at me, ok?"

"Shhh, shhh, shhh." The air blew across my ear in a soft hiss. I froze. It wasn't words, but it was a deliberate sound, and it was directed at me. The only thing I had gotten from him before was a grunt, and this was more then that.

I had to be sure. "I'm really sorry, Finn." I rubbed my cheek against his neck, wiping away the tears that were starting to itch as they dried on my face.

Finn rested his chin on top of my head. "Shhh." Now that I was listening for it, it was obvious that he was trying to comfort me.

_See? He's trying to as hard as he can, which is more then you deserve, considering your behavior. Now quit tormenting him._

"Thank you, Finn. I'm better now, I promise." I picked my head up and forced a smile. "See? No more crying."

He smiled back, but I could tell that it was forced as well. Apparently my acting had become so bad that I wasn't even fooling Finn. He hugged me again, and this time my smile was genuine. I pushed off of him and laid down so we were side by side. "You know what, Finn?"

His head cocked and he shrugged his shoulders, asking me what I was thinking about. "You are the sweetest guy in the entire world. You're nice to everyone, whether they deserve it or not. That's a rare trait and it makes you an incredibly special person."

I could tell that I had his full attention, and I was unwilling to let him lapse back into the depression that had been consuming him over the past few days. Shameless flattery never hurt. "And you're pretty darn tough. I wouldn't have been able to make it through what you have."

A crease appeared between his eyebrows as he thought that one over. After a minute, he pointed and me and flexed his biceps. He thought I was really tough, too. I patted his shoulder. "That's very kind of you." I pushed lightly at his arm, which had come to rest on my shoulder. "Let me up for a minute."

He did, but I could feel his eyes trained on my back as I went into the bathroom and ran a washcloth under the tap. My reflection was bleary eyed and tearstained, looking like I had been to Hell and back. I scrubbed at my face with the washcloth, which didn't help much, then rinsed it again and brought it back over to Finn. "Here, wipe your face off."

He did so without complaint, erasing the tear tracks that were streaking his face. It made him look a little better, even though he was still far too pale. "Do you want that sandwich? I'll bring it down and sit with you while you eat."

After what felt like a million years, he nodded slightly. I took the washcloth back and patted his shoulder. "They won't send you anywhere, I promise. If they try, I won't let them."

His smile was tense and worried, but it was a start. "You rest for a while, and I'm going to get you some lunch."

Carole hadn't left yet, since she had misplaced her keys and was scouring the kitchen for them. "I swear I put them on the counter, just like always, but now they're gone. Things just get up and walk off in this house and-Kurt! Did Finn want anything?" She didn't have much hope in her voice. Finn hadn't wanted much since he came back, and nothing for the past few days.

It felt good to be able to report good news for once. "He wants some lunch. I'm going to make him a sandwich, and he said he would eat."

"He did? He's actually going to eat without me standing over him for every bite?" She didn't ask if he had talked, since we both knew that he hadn't. Her arms came around me in a tight hug. "Kurt, you're a miracle worker!"

She wouldn't think that if she had heard me terrorizing Finn a few minutes ago. But I was too ashamed to admit that and risk having her be angry with me. I had become to dependant on her hugs, and her questioning me about my day and the way she made the house come to life again. "No, I'm not. He didn't say he wanted anything from the store."

The nice thing about Carole was that she always seemed to know when to push and when not to. Something about my face (most likely the guilt that I knew was written all over it) told her that I wasn't in the mood for praise right now, and she respected that. She did, however, kiss the top of my head. "You're such a good boy."

Funny how I never got tired of hearing her say those words, whether I deserved them or not. "Thank you." I cursed my pale skin yet again, knowing that I had turned bright red. "I'm going to start on Finn's lunch."

I wanted everything to be perfect, so Finn wouldn't have any excuse to not eat. He liked the bacon crispy but not burned, and it was tricky to get it just right. While it cooked, I toasted the bread and found some leftover turkey in the fridge. A few slices of cheese and some lettuce and I had managed to make a pretty decent looking sandwich. If you didn't care about your heart or cholesterol, that was. I took a knife out of the butcher block and cut the sandwich in quarters. Now it was perfect.

I fished a coke out of the fridge and grabbed the entire bag of red Doritos out of the cabinet. Now I just had to hope that he hadn't gone back to sleep, and that he would still be interested in food.

To my great surprise, Finn not only wasn't asleep, he had gotten out of bed and taken a shower. His hair was still wet and I could see a trail of water from the bathroom to where he was sitting, but I didn't find that as obnoxious as I usually did.

He was wearing clean clothes (still pajamas, but it was at least a small victory) and had actually stripped his bed down. Apparently he had run out of steam before getting clean sheets on, because he was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, quiet and still, one hand mechanically patting the fabric.

I put on my happiest face, which I was finding easier now that Finn was back in the land of the living. "Lunch is here!" I set the tray on the nightstand between the beds. "Now, if I let you sit on my bed to eat, can I trust you not to get Dorito crumbs all over the comforter? I mean it Finn, if I find bacon on my pillow, I will…. I will make you listen to nothing but Lady Gaga for the next month." I had to pause because it was difficult to think of a threat that Finn would hate, but that wouldn't utterly terrify him.

Finn thought seriously for a minute, then held up two fingers in a 'scouts honor' gesture. I narrowed my eyes. "Were you actually a boy scout?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Ok, you can eat on my bed while I put some clean sheets on yours. Did you put the dirty ones in the washer?"

The guilty look in his eyes told me that he hadn't. I wasn't finding Finn as difficult to read these days as I had when he first came back, but I wasn't sure if it was because he was being less guarded, or I was just better at figuring out the minute cues. "Never mind, I'll do it."

There were going to be crumbs all over my bed, despite what Finn had promised, but it would still be better then either letting him eat on the white couch, or making him eat on the floor like a dog. And I guessed that a few crumbs were well worth having Finn back, instead of the zombie that had been occupying his body for the past few days.

Finn watched while I remade his bed, taking care to fix the comforter and arrange the pillows how he liked them. "Next time you're doing that yourself, so I hope you were watching. You're seventeen now, Finn, and it's not fair to your mother to be doing this all the time. In two years, you'll be in college, and no one is going to make your bed for you then. I know that you've been doing very well at stripping the sheets, which is an improvement, but you need to be able to bet fresh ones on, too."

He rolled his eyes, and I just knew that if no one made Finn's bed for him, it wouldn't get made at all. I gestured to the untouched plate in his hands. "Well? Are you going to eat that or not?"

He didn't seem sure, and I realized that I had no idea how Carole had been convincing him to eat his other meals. As much as I loved the boy (and I was rapidly concluding that I still loved him far more then was good for me), I was not going to hand feed him when he was perfectly capable of picking up the food on his own. After what felt like forever, he popped the top on the coke and took a deep drink. Then he picked up one of the quarters and held it out to me. "No, I'm not hungry. That's your food and you should be eating it."

With a deep sigh, he offered it again. "Do you think I'm going to poison you?"

I regretted saying it the minute his eyes widened. With an exaggerated huff of air, I threw myself down next to him and took a quick bite of the offered piece. Damn, I made a good sandwich. "See? It's good and you can eat now. Don't even try and convince me to sample those chips, because I won't do it. They are nothing but artificially flavored, preservative filled, cardboard."

Finn grabbed a chip and made a big show of eating it, complete with exaggerated chomping and rubbing his stomach. I rolled my eyes. "Chew with your mouth closed, you Neanderthal."

That, of course, earned me a soundless laugh and an even more disgusting view of the half chewed orange goop in his mouth. "Ug, Finn, really? Is this what turns girls on? Seeing pulverized chips rolling around on your uvula? Thank Prada for homosexuality, because there is no way I could possibly ever be so crude."

Finn froze; his mouth snapping closed, and looked at me for what seemed like forever. I looked back, not sure what had happened. "What?"

He didn't respond, just looked at me with big, dark, eyes. I mentally reran what I had just said and could have kicked myself. While my gayness was rather (ok, excruciatingly) obvious to anyone who spend more then 15 minutes talking to me, I had never come out and just said it like that before. At least not to Finn. I had assumed that he knew, but, then again this was Finn, who tended to be beyond oblivious. "Yeah, you caught me. I'm gay. But you already knew that didn't you?" My voice was trying to crack again, but I compelled it to be steady.

One hand flipped up, and he made two quick signs. _I no_. Trust Finn to figure out how to shorten even his signs. Text speak for signing.

"So, if you already know, what's they big deal? You're acting like it's something shocking."

Naturally, Finn had to take a few bites of his lunch while he thought about it, while my stomach drew into tighter and tighter knots. He wasn't screaming or shoving me off the bed or trying to run, and hadn't made any attempt to hit me, so he must not have been too upset. Finally he wiped his hands (on my bedspread! My beautiful, beautiful designer bedspread. Had it been anyone but Finn, I would have been currently concealing a murder.) and pointed to me.

Great, we were playing charades again. "I". He nodded and made the quick flapping gesture near his mouth. "said." Another nod and he sat back, clearly finished. "I said what?"

He repeated the signs, waiting patiently for me to catch up to him. "I said…that I was gay? Oh, this is the first time I've actually said it to you." Sometimes Finn thinks that I'm a lot smarter then I actually am, and that I can almost read his mind.

_You haven't exactly been doing a bad job of it_.

_Yes. _Finn hadn't moved from his position of laying against my headboard, but he was watching me very intently.

I wanted to reach out to him, but I folded my hands in my lap instead. "Is that a problem?" Please, please let it not be a problem.

Finn thought about it for a long time, though probably not as long as it felt to me. For a few minutes, he stared at me, but then he fixated on the wall, his eyes distant and sad. His head shook, then nodded, then shook again, as if he was having a conversation with an invisible partner.

Something was happening here, something I didn't understand. As hard as I thought back, I couldn't remember Finn ever indicating that he had a problem with gay people. He had tolerated my crush on him gently at first, even when it made him uncomfortable. He didn't start pushing me away until I escalated things on him.

_Think, Kurt. Think really hard. Why would Finn have a bigger problem with gay people now then he did before. Think about what your father told you, what you heard at the hospital, what you know, deep in your heart. _

I did know, but I wasn't sure if I should bring it up to Finn. I was so far out of my depth here that, as my tantrum of just an hour ago had proven, I had no idea what would help and what would hurt.

_You and everyone else. Try something; because the two of you are about so get stuck in this loop, you staring at him and him staring at the wall until your parents get home. Then nothing will be solved and you problems will just end up festering until they explode._

It was a sobering thought, so I reached out and touched Finn's arm. He jumped, like he had forgotten I was even here. "Gay doesn't equal rapist, you know."

His dark eyes rolled over and caught mine, staring deeply and without emotion. "I won't hurt you, Finn."

Now there was the tiniest flicker in his expression, an emotion that I couldn't name, and that was gone as quickly as it appeared. Something swirled behind his eyes, but what was it? A denial? A name? Whatever it was, he wasn't going to let it loose.

I hated to push, but I had to see this through to the end. "I'm not like him, I won't hurt you. I would never touch you if you said not to. Ever." It was the first time that any of us had even hinted about what might have happened to him during the long months he had been away.

Finn heaved out a shuddery breath, but his eyes never left mine. Whatever he was thinking, I was getting through to him. "Do you understand me?" I kept my voice gentle, and my body away from his. "Finn, do you understand what I'm telling you?"

He nodded, very slowly. Then he slid off the bed, abandoning his plate, and walked towards the stairs. I let him go, because he obviously needed to be alone right now, to think and figure out what had just happened.

Once he hit the bottom of the staircase Finn turned around and pointed at first me, then himself. Then he twisted his pointer and middle finger together. I could almost hear his voice behind the gesture, with that laughing sincerity he always gave me. _You and me, Kurt, we're tight. No matter what else, we're ok._

It wasn't a confirmation of what I had just said, but it wasn't a denial either. Whatever it was, it was a step forward in our relationship, one less secret held between us. I just hoped that that would be enough.


	15. Chapter 15

_**The touch of your hand lets me know that you need me**_

_**There's a truth in your eyes saying you'll never leave me**_

_**The touch of you hand says you'll catch me,**_

_**If ever I fall.**_

_**You say it best, when you say nothing at all**_

_**Allison Krauss 'When You Say Nothing at All' **_

By some strange, unspoken agreement, Finn and I didn't talk about what had happened in the basement that night. Not to each other, and certainly not to our respective parents. He may have said something to his therapist, but I didn't think so. It was a secret between us, and Finn could keep a secret like no one I had eve seen.

Finn didn't go back to being depressed at all. He had become someone new, someone who wasn't the boy he had been before he was kidnapped, or the shade that had been haunting us since he had come back. He still sought out my company, but he wasn't as needy as he was before. I was getting the impression that he wanted me around now because he actually liked me, rather then because he thought I was the only thing keeping him from total mental collapse.

There was a small part of me that was surprisingly disturbed by that. It had been nice to be so tangibly important to someone, to know that I was special to them in a way that no one else was.

_That is beyond sick. You really want Finn screwed up and mute, just so you can feel better about yourself? Maybe you seeing that therapist isn't such a bad idea after all._

Thank you, but I felt guilty enough already. Besides, that was the sort of thought that I wasn't going to admit to anyone, except, apparently, voice in my head. But she knew everything that I did, so it was alright.

Since Finn was doing so much better in general, we (and by we, I mean Dad and Carole) decided that it was time to take the next step in improving his relationship with Dad. So, when Finn came upstairs for breakfast the next morning, he found out that the snack cabinet now had a lock on it and Dad was holding the only key.

He had been furious. No, that was too light a word. Enraged would have fit better. He still didn't speak, of course, but he lit off into an amazing variety of gestures, quite a few of which involved his middle finger, and the rest of which I was pretty sure weren't found in any sign language book. Dad had held firm, though, calmly informing Finn that he could throw all the tantrums he wanted, but that he knew the rules, and he would get his snacks when he made the effort to ask for them.

Finn sulked for three days, before deciding to try a different tactic. He went to Carole instead, tears in his eyes and snuggled close, pleading for his Doritos and coke with barely moving hands. She held him, and sympathized with him, but he didn't get what he wanted. Carole was as stubborn as Finn was, and she told him that there was plenty of fruit and veggies in the fridge if he was hungry, or he could wait for dinner, but he only got snacks from Dad.

Once he determined that his mother was useless, Finn decided to try me. He cornered me in the basement, and, using perfect signs (he must have been studying that book religiously while I was doing my two hour face routines, because he was excellent at it. Honestly, if the boy put that much effort into anything else…) and promised me everything but the moon.

"No, Finn. Our parents and Samantha said that it has to be like that, and I didn't get a say."

He thought carefully and tried again. _I'll work hard at school._

He meant the schoolwork from last year that he was desperately trying to finish so he could pass his sophomore year and start as a junior in September. "You already work hard." The sad thing was, he really did. I'm pretty sure that he didn't want the stigma of being held back a grade in addition to everything else that had happened.

_I'll…_ He stopped there, because there was really nothing for him to promise me. _Please. Please, Kurt._

The pure misery in his eyes would have been enough to break me, but there was no way I could help him. "I'm sorry; Finn, but I don't have the key. Dad has it, and it's on his key ring, so I can't even sneak it for you. I can cut up what's in the fridge and make you a fruit cup, but that's it."

He gave me a look that I chose to interpret as 'thanks for trying, Kurt, but I really wanted my Doritos.' It could have just as easily meant 'God, Kurt, can't you do anything right?', but I was trying to be more positive these days.

Finn lasted an entire six days before he finally broke and asked Dad for his snacks. He came into the kitchen one evening, his body tense and his fists clenched. I watched him from my position at the counter, torn between helping him and letting him do it on his own.

Dad waited for three uncomfortable minutes, then offered his help. "Finn, do you want something?" He stayed seated, so he wasn't looming up in Finn's face.

After what seemed like an eternity, Finn pointed at the locked cabinet, then signed _please_.

"Sure." He rose and unlocked the cabinet. "What do you want?"

By the time it was over, Finn had conned a bag of popcorn, a coke and three popsicles. He did sign the appropriate thanks, but his eyes made it pretty clear that he hoped Dad choked on his evening coffee.

Since I knew that there was no way he was going to eat his bounty in front of Dad, I told Finn that it was fine for him to take the food down to our shared bedroom. I wasn't a fan on it, except in extenuating circumstances, especially since Finn couldn't always be counted on to remember to take the dishes upstairs, but I was willing to let it go this time.

Once he was gone, Dad gave me a shaky nod. "See, things will be alright."

"Of course they will." I wasn't sure if I should be proud of how steady my voice was, or ashamed of how well I had learned to lie to Dad. "Finn's doing great. He's sleeping better and he's communicating more. He'll probably be talking really soon."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Kurt, Finn's- back! How are you doing, Finn?"

Well, now I know where I got my inability to lie from. It was obvious from Dad's face that we had been talking about Finn, so obvious that even Finn got it. He pointed at the cabinet and signed _please_ for a second time.

"Did you already eat what I gave you?" Dad was torn between giving Finn what he wanted, like he had been told to, and telling him that he had had enough soda and snacks for it being a half hour to bedtime.

Finn just stared at him, quiet and unmoving. I could tell that Dad was regretting it even as he rose, but he went through the same routine of bringing things out and asking Finn what it was he wanted. This time Finn got a bowl of ice cream, the remainder of the Doritos and a handful of Oreos as well as an additional soda. Just looking at it made my stomach churn unpleasantly.

Dad watched him go. "What am I supposed to do if he comes back again?"

_How about acting like the parent and telling him he can't have any more this close to bedtime? Of course, it's Kurt that's going to end up sitting up with him when he goes into a sugar craze and can't sleep. That will probably ruin the progress you've made so far. No good options here, Mr. Hummel_

I told the voice to shut up and shrugged, pushing the remainder of my orange away. "Let him have whatever he wants. Mother Nature has a way of settling these scores on her own."

Finn returned twice more to beg for food, and I was starting to think that he was going to gorge himself until we ran out. By the last time, he was white as a sheet, and I realized that he was actually eating everything Dad sent, instead of hiding most of it in the basement for later like I had previously suspected.

Dad noticed, too, and he shook his head at Finn's latest request. "Absolutely not. It's almost 11 at night, and you've had more then enough. Your mother isn't going shopping until next week, so if you eat everything in here tonight, you'll have nothing until then."

Finn must have been feeling lousy already, because he didn't fight. He just scowled and gestured to me that he was going to bed. He ambled up the stairs to kiss his mother goodnight and went into the basement. Dad whistled softly. "He is going to be _so_ sick."

"Yeah." I really didn't want to be around for the pukefest that I was sure was about to happen, but the couch was hell on my back and I wasn't about to let Finn drive me from my own bed.

"Do you think I should get Carole for him? She's not feeling well, but neither is he and-"

"No. Finn's gotten himself in trouble and he can deal with the consequences. I'll make sure that he's alright, I promise."

"Ok. You have a good night." He slapped my shoulder, which was the Dad version of a hug and always wrinkled my clothes. I was going to have to have a talk with Carole about teaching him how to give a hug, or at least be more gentle.

"You, too." I steeled myself and went downstairs. 

The overhead light was off, but there was enough combined light from the partially open bathroom door and the nightlight in the corner for me to see Finn clearly. He was huddled on top of the sheets, his arms wrapped around his stomach and his eyes clenched shut. I pressed a hand to his clammy forehead. "Not feeling so great?"

His head shook once. "Ok, let me see what I can do." There was some Pepto-Bismol in the bathroom, and I measured out a dose and a half for him. I came back and patted his cheek. "Here you go. This might be enough to settle your stomach, but I think you're going to be in for a miserable night."

Finn was surprisingly trusting with me, not even opening his eyes when I pressed the measuring spoon to his lips. He swallowed and rolled onto his side, still paler then I had ever seen him. "Try to rest, ok?"

Unfortunately, my earlier suspicions were proven correct about a half hour later, when Finn shot to his feet and lurched into the bathroom. I didn't get up, even when I heard him start retching, because I wasn't sure whether or not I would be welcome.

Except it went on and on and even though I didn't like being anywhere near bodily fluids, I had to admit that I owed him one, big time. After all, the day I had come to school trashed and barfed all over Ms. Pillsbury's shoes, it had been Finn who guided me into the boys bathroom and lifted me up to sit the edge of the sink because I was too drunk to take care of myself. He had cleaned the worst of the mess off of my shirt, and wiped my face off with a damp paper towel. He had also been nice enough not to mention the fact that I was so sick and miserable that I was crying. It was that moment, more then any other, had cemented my crush on him for all eternity.

By the time I got into the bathroom, Finn was dry heaving into the bowl, his body trembling violently. I flushed for him, rubbing his tense back. "It's ok, you'll be alright."

He gratefully accepted the cup of water I held out to him, rinsing out his mouth and taking a few sips. I waited until I was sure that the water was going to stay down, then helped him to his feet. I stood next to him while he brushed his teeth, looking like he might pitch forward at any minute.

Finn was shivering now, the cold sweat drying on his body. "Come on, bedtime." I put a hand on his back to guide him to bed, then tucked the blankets around him and put a damp cloth on his forehead.

Considering the sheer amount of crap Finn had consumed, I was pretty sure that this wasn't going to be the only time he got sick tonight. So I fished a bucket out from under the sink and put it next to his bed. "Finn?"

One eye cracked open, bloodshot and tired. "I'm putting this here in case you get sick again and can't make it to the bathroom in time. If you can possibly make it, do so, because I do not want to clean up your mess." I stopped short of telling him that he had brought this on himself, even though it was true. It had been true when I had done it as well, but I knew about not wanting to hear it.

He raised a hand and quirked it in a 'come here' gesture. I leaned down closer, wondering if he would finally whisper something to me. "What?"

The hand curled around the back of my neck, pulling my face down to his. With a barely there movement, he pressed his lips once to my cheek. Then he made a sign that I thought I should have recognized, holding up his hand and curling his ring and middle fingers down to his palm, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it what it meant. His eyes closed again, and he settled on his side.

I all but floated back to my bed, my fingers against the spot where he had kissed me. Finn Hudson had kissed me. _Finn Hudson_ had kissed me. Finn Hudson had _kissed _me. No matter how I thought it, it was completely unbelievable. Still, I could go for _years_ off of that one, single moment.

_I wouldn't be so excited about a kiss on the cheek. Well, no, I would, but only if the guy was actually gay. In this case, I would just be glad that he brushed his teeth after he barfed._

That voice insisted on ruining every good moment that I ever had. For the moment, at least, Finn was breathing quietly and evenly, apparently exhausted enough to fall asleep. Now if I could only get my overexcited brain to do the same.

_I don't think your brain is the only thing that's overexcited. Seems to me that you have a rather…should we call it a 'difficult' problem that needs some attention? No, not difficult. Let's call it a 'hard' problem. You should really do something about that. You never know, it met help you go to sleep._

That was disgusting. Not only that the voice would suggest that I jerk off with Finn sleeping in a bed less then six feet away, but that it would draw attention to my problem at all. I whispered to it in the dark. "You're sick."

There was no reply to that, and I fell half asleep myself. Without doing anything inappropriate to myself, thank you. I half heard Finn get up twice more and throw up, but I never really woke up enough to get out of bed and help him. Finally he started to snore, and I figured that the worst was over, allowing my body to fully relax for the first time.

As I tottered on the edge of sleep, it all pulled together for me. I knew exactly what Finn had been signing to me, and I couldn't believe how long it had taken me to figure it out. Middle and ring finger curled down, palm out, the other two fingers and thumb raised. I love you. Finn had been telling me that he loved me.

Oh, my Gaga.

Finn was still asleep when I woke up the next morning, no doubt worn out by getting up and down all night, but his color looked good and he seemed to be peaceful, so I left him alone. He would have to wake up eventually, and then we could have a talk (well, I could talk and he could listen) about what he had meant. Did he love me like a brother? Like a caretaker, like a….a boyfriend? The last one nearly made me lose my breath.

_What did I just tell you about getting too excited about things? Take a deep breath and try not to get upset, no matter what Finn tells you._

If he told me anything at all. Finn is surprisingly good at playing coy, looking down and making little hand gestures that told me exactly nothing. It wasn't a new tactic either, except, Before, when he could still talk; he just acted too dumb to understand the question. That way he didn't have to answer anything he didn't want to, but he wasn't being rude about it. I, personally, would have told more then one person to go screw themselves, but Finn has a real fear of confrontation. That wasn't new either.

Dad had already left for work, but Carole was in the kitchen, doing the crossword puzzle. "Good morning, Kurt, did you sleep alright?"

Her arm rose automatically as she spoke, and I slipped underneath it. "Yeah, I slept fine."

"How did Finn do? Did he end up getting sick?"

Apparently Dad had told her everything. "A few times, but he's sleeping right now."

"He's as stubborn as Christopher ever was. What are your plans for today?"

I wouldn't admit it, but I really liked that she cared so much about me and what I was doing. "None. Mercedes and Tina are going to the movies, but their seeing something that's a little chick flicky, even for me. I thought I'd just hang around here, today, maybe have a fun spa day all by myself." Suddenly my stomach thrilled. "Or you and I could do it! I need to get you some nice sundresses, and you need a new palette of make-up for the summer! We haven't done anything this summer, because of everything that happened, but we usually have barbeques with some of the guys from the garage, and you would be so beautiful in red."

Her arm tightened around me. "Oh, Honey, I have to go to work at one today. But how about on Wednesday? You and I can make a day of it, go to the mall, go out to dinner, the whole nine yards."

I could feel a huge smile spreading over my face. "Really? Just you and I?"

She nodded. "Just us."

"What about Finn?" As much as I wanted to be able to go somewhere with Carole, just the two of us, I had to think of Finn, too.

"Call your teacher and see if he would like some company. If not, I'm sure Finn will be alright for a day, especially since your father has to work all day. We'll figure something out if you really want to go."

She had just chosen me over Finn. Even if it only happened this one time, Carole had put my happiness above his. I did mean something to her, something important. I pressed my face into her shoulder. "I love you." The words popped out before I could stop them.

"I love you, too." Her fingers stroked my hair, so lightly that I barely even felt it.

I ducked out from underneath her, and smiled. "I'm still having my spa day, so. I'll be downstairs soaking in the tub if you need me."

It took a few minutes for me to gather the scented candles and large glass of ice water with a bendy straw. Carole watched me with an amused expression, one that was similar to, but not exactly like the one she gave Finn. It meant that she loved me and she was proud of me being exactly who I was.

Finn was still crashed out, though he had rolled over onto his side. I didn't think that the sound of water running into the tub would bother him, but it was now nearly 10and I wasn't going to feel too terrible if it did. He had had almost 12 hours of sleep at this point anyway.

_Liar_.

I poured some bath salts and bubble bath into the water and lit the candles, turning the bathroom in to a sweet smelling paradise. A quick peek out the door confirmed that he was undisturbed and still sleeping peacefully. I left the door open exactly five inches, because Finn's claustrophobia hadn't lessened in the slightest and he would flip out if he found the door shut with someone inside of the room.

The tension seeped from my body as I soaked in the hot bathtub, clutching a well worn copy of Wicked in one hand and taking sips of my ice water. This was the life.

I stayed in the bathroom for well over two hours, soaking and scrubbing and putting on two different face masks. Hey, it took a lot of work to look this good. By the time I came out, wrapped up in a brand new bathrobe (thank you, Carole), Finn was gone. 

A part of me was surprised that he hadn't at least peeked in the bathroom to see where I was, but the larger part acknowledged that Finn probably both wanted to give me some privacy and was afraid of what he might see. The bubbles would have kept my nakedness covered, but he had no way of knowing that.

He wasn't upstairs in the kitchen, nor was he watching television. Where had Finn gone?

I finally tracked both him and Carole out to the backyard, both working in the garden. Carole and Finn had always had small garden at their house, and she had insisted on putting on in at ours, because she was so sure that Finn would be home soon to help out with it. Neither Dad nor I had believed that Finn would be back, but it had helped her to have something to do. I had insisted that it be an organic garden, and she and I worked together to plant it, and fertilize it, and start collecting the berries and veggies that grew in it.

Watching them gather up cucumbers and beans, I felt jealousy building in my chest. Even though I didn't care for dirt and mess in general, I had to admit that I had really liked being able to see our food grow from a seed to our dinner table. Carole had laughed at my squeamishness and told me to think of it as a mud mask, one of the few times that she had been in such a good mood since Finn went missing. There was a part of me that didn't want to see her having fun like that with anyone else, even Finn.

Carole saw me standing there and waved me over. "Kurt, come on and help us! I think we'll have enough tomatoes and carrots to make a fresh salad for dinner."

_I hope that makes you feel bad. She has enough love to go around, enough for a dozen kids. Just because Finn's back, it doesn't mean that she doesn't need or love you any more._

Finn, by the way, was taking advantage of his mother's distraction to systematically strip and eat the strawberries in the next row over. "No, I just got out of the bathtub and I don't want to get all dirty again. What are we having for dinner?"

"Beer can chicken." It was a meal that the entire family liked. "I'm only working a few hours, so I'll be home in time to make it for you. Do you think that you and Finn can wash these off for me, though?"

Sometimes I still didn't like Carole taking over things like cooking and cleaning, which were my jobs, but I was getting used to it. It was cool to have the extra time to practice the piano or work on my Glee stuff. "Of course. Can't we, Finn?"

His head popped up and he nodded enthusiastically. Carole smiled. "If Finn left any strawberries, we can have those, too. If not, you have blackberry bushes on the edge of the property. Come on, Finn, we have enough now."

He grabbed the basket, making a quick 'after you' gesture at her. She smiled at him, the look so gentle and maternal that I felt jealousy twist my insides again.

She kept talking as she led up back inside. "Finn, you need to finish with your Biology and your math homework before I get home. Do it right, because I will be checking it over. If you have problems, either look it up or ask Kurt. Kurt, I have some laundry going, do you think you can switch the loads over for me?"

I nodded and she kept going. "Thank you. Now, I need a shower before I go in. Did you leave me any hot water?"

"Um, maybe a little." Even though we had been a family of three for over six months, and a family of four for two, I still sometimes forgot that I had to think before doing things like running out the entire tank of hot water.

"Keep an eye on that, please. Finn, homework. Burt left you a Coke in the fridge if you want it, but it's the only soda you get today."

That was more then enough to please Finn, who patted me quickly on the shoulder in greeting and ambled back down to the basement, where all of the textbooks Carole had conned out of Figgins were located. I would give him an hour to read over his daily assignment, then go over it with him. It actually worked out well for both of us. Finn learned best when we worked together and I got to review the concepts in preparation for next year. Not that Finn and I were taking the same level of classes, but reviewing the basics never hurt.

I made myself a small salad and an orange for lunch and sat down at the counter to eat in peace. A few minutes passed, and Finn appeared, clutching his textbooks. I smiled at him so he would know that he was welcome. "Need help?" 

He shook his head and settled next to me. "Just lonely?"

Finn gave me a quick grin and snatched two pieces of my orange. I swatted for his hand, but he can be surprisingly quick when he feels like it. "Finn, as pleased as I am to see you trying to eat something with actual nutritional value, that orange was mine. If you want an orange, I would be glad to cut one up for you."

His fingers flickered at me. _No baby. _He stood up and retrieved his own two oranges, as well as the Coke from the fridge. My chest tightened when I saw him using the knife, but he managed it smoothly. Maybe he had a legitimate complaint about the babying, considering that he was 17 years old, not 7.

Once he had easily peeled and separated the oranges into a bowl, he removed two segments and offered them back to me. "You're a paragon of fairness."

He didn't respond to that, probably because he didn't understand it. Instead he chose to open his books and sit with me while I ate. I offered to make him lunch, but he shook his head. Maybe last night had taught him a lesson about overindulging.

_Please. Last night wasn't about overindulging and you know it. It was about power, and him proving to your father who had it. _

That was true. The fight over food could have been a fight over car keys, or a girlfriend, or any number of other things. Basically, it was the only way Finn had left to tell Dad to go fuck himself.

Carole came rushing down the stairs, running late to work, as always. She never failed to stop and kiss us both though, no matter how late she was. "Bye boys, have fun!"

Finn sighed a little when she left, his eyes following her, but he didn't panic. It's taken almost a month, but Finn seems to have settled in his own mind that we will always come back when we say we will. I looked over at him, and suddenly realized what had been bothering me about him for the past few days. "Finn, do you know what you need?"

He didn't look up from his textbook, but his head canted slightly in my direction. I took that as a question and continued on. "You need a haircut."

He really, really, did. His hair had been kind of long when he got back, since I'm sure keeping his hair neat wasn't high on his kidnappers to do list, and it hadn't been cut since. Now it was well down over his ears, which might have looked alright, had his hair been as straight as mine, but it wasn't. Finn's hair didn't curl so much as it shot up in cowlicks and hair horns that were next to impossible to smooth down. Some men could pull of the freshly fucked and just rolled out of bed look, but Finn wasn't one of them.

Now he was looking at me curiously. "Come on, I can do it. I do my dad's hair."

B-U-R-T B-A-L-D. Finn wasn't as easy to fool as he had been in the past.

"Ok, you have me there. But I cut your mother's hair and you have to admit that it looks fantastic. Took 20 years off right there." He still looked unsure, but I could tell that he was weakening. His bangs had grown down into his eyes, and I knew that it bothered him to be constantly pushing them back. Not everyone can master a full on diva flip like I had. "I'll make it look just like it did before, if that's what you want." I had the clippers and it wouldn't be that hard.

He finally nodded. "Great. You finish up here, and I'll go get the clippers out of the upstairs bathroom. We'll do it downstairs, where the light is better."

My fingers were all but itching as I raced up the stairs, determined not to give Finn a chance to change his mind. I love, love, love makeovers, and hopefully, once it was actually happening, I could convince Finn to not only do something about his hair, but work on his skin as well. I've warned him about his T-zone in the past, but I swear that the boy never listens. How he isn't constantly all broken out is a mystery that might never be solved.

Finn was still sitting at the counter when I got back, nibbling at the last of his orange and making notes on a piece of paper. "Ready?"

He shot me a thumbs up and bounced to his feet. I kept chattering to him as we walked down the stairs, never asking what I actually wanted to, which was why he had decided to kiss me last night. That could wait until I actually had him sitting down and trapped.

I started setting things up with a flourish, while Finn vacillated between me and the bathroom, making gestures. I rolled my eyes. "If you need to go, then go, because I'm not stopping in the middle for a potty break."

His head shook once, and I could feel his frustration. "What, then?" I had to remember to correctly modulate my voice, and not let my own frustration break through.

More gestures, and it suddenly hit me. "Oh, no, you don't have to wash your hair beforehand. It's part of the salon experience, but not necessary. Just sit down at my vanity and we'll get started."

My hands were shaking a little as I draped a towel around Finn's neck and plugged in the clippers. Finn did have a point when he told me that my father was bald. Carole's hair hadn't been difficult to cut, especially since I wouldn't have been terribly heartbroken if I screwed it up and Dad dumped her after I made her look like the bride of Frankenstein, but this was different.

_Of course it's different you idiot, it's Finn._

Finn, who was sitting very still and patient, not seeming to mind that I was holding all of the power here. He tapped his fingers on the vanity, his eyes finding mine in the mirror and holding them in a viselike grip.

I had to force myself to look down, breaking the staring contest, which was something I thought I would never have to do with Finn Hudson. I picked the clippers up and held them to the back of his head. "I'm going to start, alright?"

He nodded, and I turned them on, the buzzing sounding extraordinarily loud in the quiet that had fallen over the bedroom. I moved carefully, since Finn's hair seems to grow in different directions and I didn't want to gouge him. Whoever said that it was only hair deserved to be shot. Hair was the first thing that people noticed, and I didn't want to give Finn any more excuses to want to hide himself away.

Luckily, Finn behaved himself and held perfectly still, except for a brief twitch when I accidentally ran the side of the clippers over the back of his ear. "Is it ok if I leave it a little longer then it was? If you don't like it, we can always go shorter again."

At his thumbs up, I touched the clippers back to his head, evening his hair out. "Ok, what do you think?" It was much shorter then it had been, even a little shorter then it had been when he first came back, but longer then it had been Before.

He cocked his head, first one way, then the other, obviously thinking it over. I thought he looked cute, plus the new cut would be easy for him to take care of.

_You always think he looks cute. Actually, you always think he looks hot, and like you want to tap that ass._

That was sadly true, but I made the voice be quiet for a few minutes. There were bigger issues here, and I couldn't hold back any longer. "Finn, I need to ask you a question." I paused until he met my eyes in the mirror again, then pushed forward. "Why did you kiss me last night?"

He thought for a second, then made the 'I love you' sign again. "You kissed me because you love me?"

A nod. As much as my heart (among other body parts) wanted to just accept that and move on, I had to clear the air between us. "Finn, do you think we should talk about things? I mean, the things that were happening before you went away?" I never said kidnapped, and neither did Dad or Carole. We all just acted like Finn had gone on some sort of extended trip.

He shook his head, his gaze dark. "I think we need to anyway."

I could tell that he didn't like it, but he turned around on the bench so we were facing each other and held out one hand, showing me all five fingers. "I have five minutes?"

That was the case, so I started talking. "You're playing with me." My voice cracked and I cleared my throat. "You're playing with me, Finn, and it isn't fair. Maybe you don't mean to, but you are. You know full well how I feel about you, and it isn't fair for you to give me kisses, and tell me that you love me, when we both know that you don't mean it the way I want you to. I mean, we both know that you aren't gay, and you don't have feelings like that for me. So stop. You're making it too hard for both of us."

By the time I was done, my face was burning and I couldn't look Finn in the face. There, I had said everything that I had tried so hard to hide for the past two years. I gathered my courage to look at Finn, who looked like I had hit him. His jaw had dropped and he was shaking his head back and forth slowly. "Finn, I'm sorry." I wasn't exactly sure what I was apologizing for, but it seemed appropriate.

Now he was on his feet, pacing the room like a caged tiger. He kept raising his hands and making little gestures that weren't actual signs and I couldn't interpret, the running them through his hair in frustration. Watching him, his frustration almost a physical thing, I wondered what it would be like to be as mute as he was, and to have no one who could understand my smaller gestures.

After what felt like a million years, Finn shook his head once and started spelling a word. _P-L-A-Y-I-N-G._ "You're not playing?" He nodded.

"I didn't say you were doing it deliberately. But, Finn, don't you understand where I'm coming from? You ask for hugs, and give me kisses and tell me you love me. How would you feel if Rachel was doing all those things to you, when you knew full well that you could never have her."

_I N-E-E-D U._ He looked like he wanted to cry, which made me want to cry. Well, that and the fact that my dream was dying a miserable death and I couldn't do anything to stop it.

"That's just it, Finn. You _need_ me. I could be Rachel, or Mike, or even Quinn. You don't need or want me because I'm me; you do it because I'm here."

_No. _Finn was moving his hands so rapidly that I couldn't get anything but that.

"Yes. This isn't healthy for either one of us and, deep down, we both know it. I love you, I'll always love you, and eventually, I'll be able to love you like a brother. But not yet. It has nothing to do with you, ok? You're great. Actually, you're better then great, which is the problem. We just need a break from each other."

The misery in his eyes was slowly replaced by anger. F-I-N-E. B-R-E-A-K N-O-W. He kicked over the vanity bench and stormed up the stairs, slamming the door at the top.

I sat heavily on my bed, the shakes that I had been trying to control finally breaking free. Well, I didn't have to worry about not being able to control myself around Finn, any more. With the look he had given me, he would never want to be alone with me again.

_He'll get over it. You hurt his feelings, that's all. You admitted your feelings, and put it all out there for him. That was brave of you, and Finn will appreciate that in the end. The end might just be a while from now. _

Since I had no desire to be caught on the tail end of Finn's temper, so I stayed downstairs, sweeping up the hair and putting the basement back together. Then I cleaned the bathroom and fixed my half of the room so it looked nice again. I was stalling, and I knew it, but hadn't I just told Finn that we needed some time away from each other?

_I don't think that you hiding in the basement is going to do anything. You set your parents up, now they live together, and you're just going to have to deal with the consequences of that. You wouldn't have had Finn even if he had never disappeared, and do you really want to spend the next few weeks hiding out in your room?_

Not really. Two hours was long enough for him to cool down, right?

As it turned out, two hours was nowhere near long enough for Finn to cool down. He was standing in the kitchen, tearing up lettuce leaves with a vengeance. While he did so, he was back to making that low, continuous growling noise. I decided that a strategic retreat (read: running like a coward), was the best option here and raced back down the stairs.

Thankfully, my phone was down there, and I was able to call Mercedes for some advice. She listened and gave my her best 'you are the biggest idiot in the world' sigh. "Kurt, you could have been a _little_ more tactful. Girls like big scenes where the man pours his heart out. It makes boys want to run for the hills. Why didn't you just suggest a few separate activities for the pair of you for a few days? Finn doesn't get subtle, you know that. He would have gone along with it and never realized that you were deliberately putting some space between you two."

"Because he told me that he loved me last night. And he kissed me."

There was enough of a silence that I thought I might have lost the connection. "'Cedes, are you still there?"

"Let me get this straight. Finn Hudson, straight Quarterback, told you he loves you, and he kissed you? Did he talk?"

"Of course not. I'm starting to think that he's never going to talk again." That thought was too depressing to contemplate for long, so I filled Mercedes in on everything that had happened last night.

When I was done, she sighed heavily. "What a mess. Ok, I'm going to go out on a limb here. Are you 100% sure that the boy is straight?"

"Dated Quinn, dated Rachel, no fashion sense, freaked out when I tried to touch him…yeah, he's straight."

"Didn't do more then kiss Quinn, didn't do more then kiss Rachel, Perez Hilton, didn't freak out until you really started perving on him, told you he loved you _and_ kissed your cheek…might be at least curious."

She was so not helping. "Even if he's having some misplaced feelings for me, he's my stepbrother now, and he's traumatized. He doesn't like me because I'm me, he likes me because I'm there. Besides, he's so pissed off with me he can't see straight."

"He'll get over it. He's gotten over everything else, hasn't he? Just let him work his pissy out and he'll be back to normal."

It was sound advice, but, if there was even the slightest chance that Finn might be interested in me, I wasn't sure that I wanted things to go back to normal. Was it selfish to want what was best for me, even if it wasn't necessarily what was best for Finn?

I waited, but the voice in my head had fallen silent. Oh, so the bitch could comment on everything else, but, when I was really in crisis, chose to be silent? "I can't do it, Mercedes, I just can't. Even if it's what he wants, is it still what I want?"

"Can you afford not to? You insist on making things too complicated. The two of you need to have a talk, or whatever it is that he does. A real one, not one where you yell and he kicks things. Maybe it won't turn out how you want it to, but, who knows, maybe it will?"

"And maybe-" Anything else I might have wanted to say was cut off by Carole's voice. "Kurt! Upstairs, right now!"

Normally I would have been irritated at being instructed to do anything by a woman who wasn't my mother, but something in her voice gave me pause. "Mercedes, I have to go, Carole's calling me." I hung up without even bothering to say goodbye.

"Kurt Anthony, I mean it! Hang up the phone and march yourself up here!" Now Dad was in on it. Finn, even lacking the powers of speech, had somehow tattled on me for being mean to him.

Then something else hit home. Neither Dad nor Carole should be home for at least another hour. Something was wrong. My heart was trying to thump its way out of my chest, and I almost tripped going up the stairs.

The three of them were in the living room, waiting for me. Finn was on the couch, deathly pale and snuggled up to Carole, who was softly petting his back, muttering nonsense words. Dad stood a few feet away, still in his filthy coveralls from the garage and bending his baseball cap in his hands. I stopped in the doorway, overcome with the paralyzing urge to just turn around and run. "What's going on?"

Dad took a deep breath. "They made an arrest in your brother's case. They caught the guy, Kurt."


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: No update next week, guys, my library is closing. If you thought the last cliffie was evil, well…..

_**Evil is easy, and has infinite forms**_

_**Blaise Pascal**_

It was like he had sucked the air out of the room with just a few words. I mean, yeah, I had know that it would happen eventually, and that having the man behind bars meant that not only Finn was safe, but so was every body else, but I guess I hadn't really believed it. "How…who…what's his name?" Why did I care what his name was?

Finn whimpered softly, the sound so tiny and forlorn that it tore a hole in my heart. I thought that this might be the moment where he finally broke, and gave up the name of the man who had taken him from Lima, but he didn't. Carole shook her head. "They didn't tell us. A deputy is going to come by and bring a line up to see if Finn can recognize him. He didn't want to give us a name, or have us turn on the TV, because we might see something that skews the results."

"When…when is he coming?" I could barely even think the words; much less force them past my suddenly thick tongue and numb lips.

_Maybe that's what it feels like when Finn tries to talk. Just saying._

"Soon. He should be here before dinner. Finn, do you want to help me or would you rather stay in here with Kurt?"

Finn must not have had a chance to tell her that he and I were fighting. He could have ratted me right then, but he just pressed closer to her. "It's alright, Sweetie, I'm not going to leave you." She stood and he rose with her. One hand was fisted into her sweatshirt, and I could suddenly see him at age three or four, still small enough to want to hold hands. "Kurt, would you like to help as well?"

"No, thank you, Carole, I'll just stay here with Dad. Too many cooks spoil the broth and all that." I didn't want to tell her the truth, which was that I didn't trust my legs not to crumple beneath me if I tried to take a step.

She looked at me for a long time, like she knew that I was lying, but Finn and I were pulling her in different directions, and I couldn't blame her for choosing him right now. So I gave her that little smile that was really just a twitch of one side of my mouth. "I need to talk to Dad, anyway."

Once she was gone, Finn trailing after her like a lost puppy, Dad gave me a look that suggested he wished he was anywhere but here, but gamely held out one arm. My knees did try to give way on the first step, but I wobbled my way over to perch on the arm of his armchair. He paused for a minute, then pulled me into his lap. I burrowed against him, squeezing as tightly as I could. "I'm scared."

"Me too, Kid." He stroked one hand down my back. "This has all spiraled out of control, and I have no idea how to fix it for everyone. Actually, I don't know how to fix it for anyone. I thought that his guy getting arrested would change things for the better, but what if it doesn't?"

"Do you regret it?" I barely recognized my own voice. "Meeting Carole, and having them move in, I mean. If we hadn't done that, Finn would be fine now." Wait, did I want him to say he regretted it or not? I was too confused to be sure.

"No. I love Carole, and I love Finn, despite the fact that he wishes I would disappear, and I want the four of us to be a family, whatever that means. What happened, it wasn't my fault, or your fault, and it had nothing to do with Finn and Carole moving in with us. Maybe it put Finn in harms way that night, but maybe it kept him out of harms way on another night. I might not know about black holes and string theory and all that shit that you do, but I do know fate. For whatever reason, it was Finn's fate to have this happen, and now we need to deal as best as possible."

"He hates me right now." I whispered the words, but my head was on his chest and he could hear them any way.

"Finn does? Why?" He patted my shoulder. "He liked you well enough to let you cut his hair. It looks real nice, by the way. You have a talent."

I snorted, just so I wouldn't start crying. "He liked me while I was doing that, until I had to open my big mouth. Now he hates me."

_You are being such a drama king. Finn does not hate you. Honestly, I don't really think Finn knows how to hate anyone. My guess would be, though, that with everything else going on right now, he's forgotten you entirely_.

Dad slid a hand under my chin and pulled my face up so we could look at each other. "What did you say that upset him?"

"I…" I stopped there, because how could I tell him why I had said what I said without telling him what had happened last night, and what had happened Before Finn went away, and even before Dad and Carole started dating.

_Use a very, very edited version. Don't tell him anything about the kiss, or what Finn told you, or anything else. Think for a second, and you can do this._

"I told him that I thought we were spending too much time together, and that it was hard for me. I just thought that maybe it wasn't healthy, that we were starting to get codependent and all that. I love him, I really do, but it's so hard sometimes to try and figure out what he wants and needs and why he won't just talk and make it easier on all of us. But he got all pissed of and stormed upstairs and now he won't even look at me."

The arm across my back tightened reassuringly. "Kurt, Finn doesn't hate you. You probably hurt his feelings a little, but that's alright. If you feel like this is too much, you need to tell him that, because there's no point in making you as sick as he is. I know that you only want to help out, and believe me, you have, but you need to have a life of your own, too. Finn knows that. Besides, he specifically told us to go get you a minute ago, so he must not be too upset."

"I want to make it better it for him, but I can't." Now the traitorous tears had made it to my eyes, but I wasn't about to let them fall.

"None of us can fix Finn, Kurt. You could be Superman and you still wouldn't be able to fix Finn. All you can do is love him and hope that he finds the strength to fix himself."

_ Kurt loves Finn a lot more then you know._

I wasn't foolish enough to say that. Actually, I didn't want to say anything at all. I just wanted to let Dad hold me in a way that he hadn't done for a long time, and pretend that I was still small enough for him to fix all of my problems.

From my position, I could hear Carole talking to Finn, telling him finish with the salad and complimenting him on his new haircut and reminding him that he needed to thank me for making him look so nice. He hadn't, but he probably would have if I hadn't gone ahead and pissed him off.

The doorbell rang, making both Dad and I jump. This was it. A police officer was going to come into the house and ask all the questions over again, because Finn hadn't been able to answer them the first time, and he wasn't going to answer them this time either, but they would just keep trying, pushing him from all angles until they finally gave up and left, and Finn would be worse then he had been before. Only this time there would be pictures, and what if Finn couldn't pick the right one? Did that mean they had arrested the wrong guy, or that Finn just couldn't remember what had happened? What if the unreliable memory of a traumatized teenager got the guy off?

_What if you turn into a giant dish of tapioca pudding? What if Finn _can_ identify him? What if losing the stress of wondering if that man is going to come back is what it takes for him to talk again? What if, what if, what if? Now stop underestimating Finn. He survived didn't he?_

Dad nudged me to my feet, so he could get up and answer the door. I peeked around him, pleased to see that it was Officer Logan, and not one of the older detectives. Finn seemed to like him better, though everything was a guessing game with Finn. "Hello Mr. Hummel, Kurt." I noticed that he was carrying a brown leather bag, one that was probably filled with pictures.

"Burt is fine. Finn is in the kitchen with his mother."

"Great." He waited patiently for us to lead him in, even though every cop in Lima knows our house as well as they do their own by now. "Hello again, Finn."

Finn reminded me of a skittish colt, all tense body and rolling eyes. He took a few rapid gulps of the open soda in front of him and waved weakly. "Did your Mom tell you what's going on?"

A slow nod. "Great. Now I have to get some legal stuff out of the way before we get down to business, alright?"

He took something out of the bag. "Because we might use this if the case comes to trial, we want to have clear evidence of what happened. This is just a video camera to show a potential jury exactly which person you pointed out, ok? This also covers my ass so the defense can't claim that I coerced you or told you which one to pick. Are you with me so far?"

Finn's nod was a little stronger this time, and I appreciated the effort Officer Logan was putting forth to try and put Finn at ease. "I'm going to turn it on right now." He clicked a switch and the little red light came on. "Now, I want to be sure that you understand that you are not in trouble, Finn, and you are not being charged with a crime. Because you aren't being charged with anything, you don't have to talk to me. You can tell me to stop at any time, and I will. Also, because you are less then 18, your Mom has to stay with you. If you don't want her to do that, we can appoint something called a guardian ad litem, which is an adult who basically comes in and makes sure that I'm not bullying you and that I'm being fair. You've indicated in the past that you would rather your mother be with you. Do you still feel that way?"

Now his nod was very distinct. "Ok. I have 36 pictures for you to look at. The pictures are all of different men. I'm going to lay them down nine at a time, and I want you to look at them and see if you see the person who took you. If you aren't sure, you can tell me that, and I don't want you to feel like you have to pick someone if you don't see the right person, ok?"

Finn was starting to look a little pale, but he nodded bravely. "Good. Do you have any questions before we start?" Since Finn gave no indication that he did, the officer laid down the first nine pictures. I peeked at them, noticing that they were all of stocky men in their fifties, bald, and wearing glasses. Every one of them looked perfectly normal, the sort of guy that I would feel comfortable asking for directions if I was lost. Finn looked at all nine and shook his head. "No? What about these?"

The next nine pictures came down, and Finn again shook his head. He had dismissed each one almost immediately, which gave me hope that he remembered exactly what he was supposed to be looking for. Of course, if I had been through what he had, my kidnappers face would be burned into my mind as well.

He barely had the third set down before Finn pointed at a picture in the second row. He tapped it over and over again, not hesitating at all. Officer Logan picked it up, making sure to show it to the still running camera. "This is the man? Finn, are you 100% sure?"

Abruptly Finn's complexion went from white to green and I backed up as he leaned over and threw up all over the floor. Carole was on him in a second. "It's alright, baby, it's alright." She shot the death glare that mothers are so very good at at Officer Logan. "I think he's sure. Burt, be useful and go get a towel or something!"

We all knew that her rage wasn't really directed at Dad, or anyone else in the room. I followed him upstairs, pausing at the linen closet to pull out a couple of washcloths.

I could hear Carole and Officer Logan talking in the kitchen when I returned, running the cloths under the cold water tap and offering one to Finn so he could wipe his face. Considering the amount of throwing up Finn had done over the past two days, he had to be feeling terrible. He made a sign at me, the gestured to the policeman. "He says that he's sorry."

"No problem, Finn. Getting sick like that happens more then you would think it does, and a lot of the time its guys older and bigger then you. It's just stress." Finn offered him a weak smile.

"Did he pick the right guy? The one you arrested, I mean." I took the washcloth back, just as Dad came down and tossed a towel over the mess on the floor.

Officer Logan nodded. "Yes, Finn chose the man we arrested. Is there anything else you would like to add, Finn? A name, or any other description?" 

I could have told him not to bother. Finn wasn't even looking at the pictures now. Instead he was focused on the kitchen tile. Luckily, the policeman got it, too. "Finn, you've been a great help tonight. If you do think of something else that you might want to tell us, you know how to get in contact with us. I need to get this back to the station, so we can coordinate with the New Mexico police."

Carole nodded. "Finn, why don't you go downstairs and rest for a little bit?"

_No. With you. Dinner?_

Only Finn could be interested in food less then 5 minutes after throwing up. But having an appetite was good, right? It meant he wasn't going to freak out and stop eating like he had last time.

Maybe Carole was having the same thoughts, because she nodded. "Why don't you go lay down on the couch? Dinner should be done in 10 minutes or so, and I'll bring you a plate."

He didn't look convinced, so Dad tried. "I have some games TiVo'd, if you want to watch them. You know how to get them, right?"

Finn looked at Dad for a long time, their eyes locked. I had no idea what was being said between them, but I did sense that it was something important. Finally Finn rose on unsteady legs and wandered out of the room. We all released a breath.

I didn't want to be the one to break the uncomfortable silence that had descended on us all, but I couldn't help it. I tried to strive for an adult countenance in everything I did, but my voice came out completely childlike. "That's good, right? That Finn recognized the guy right away, and they arrested the right person. It means that things will get back to normal soon?" I recognized the stupidity of what I was saying, even as the words were still leaving my mouth.

_Dear Santa, for Christmas this year, I want a rocket and a sled and….yeah, if you believe that this will make things better, you're a moron. This is a step forward, yes, but I wouldn't guarantee that Finn sees it that way. Actually, I would think that he sees this as his life getting immeasurably worse._

"It's good that the wrong guy wasn't arrested, yes." Carole was choosing her words carefully. "And it's good that we don't have to worry about the man coming back, but it means that there's going to be a trial. It means that Finn is going to have to get up in a courtroom, and point to that man and say 'yes, that's the man who killed my best friend. That's the man who took me away from my family, and kept me for four months. That's the man who did God knows what else to me, and that's the man I managed to escape from.' I can't even imagine what that's going to do to Finn, and to all of us." She pressed her fingers to her mouth. "I don't know if any of us can do it."

"We can." Dad was nodding. "I know this family has been through a lot, but we made it this far, and we can make it the rest of the way."

She smiled weakly, and reached out to squeeze his hand. "Thank you, Burt. Kurt, do you think we can do this?" 

"Of course we can. There are four of us and one of him. We'll win if for no other reason then sheer numbers. Anyway, Finn is tough, and he's resourceful. He can do it; I'm just not 100% positive that he knows he can do it. But that's what the family is there for, to help him out, right?" I hoped that I sounded confident and not like I was going to faint.

Something in the middle of that babble must have been right, because she slipped her arm around my shoulders. "You're right; it is the four of us. Not just me and Finn, but you boys, too. There's a reason that the four of us were brought together this year, and it's so we would have each other when this all happened." 

_Yeah...want to know the real reason that the four of you were brought together this year? You spell it K-U-R-T._

So what? Did it really matter how we had gotten together, or did it just matter that we _had_ gotten together? I could put Carole and Dad together all I liked, but if they didn't hit it off, that would have been the end of it. Or they would have broken up when Finn and I were doing our best to ruin the relationship. So I had given them a little push in the right direction, big deal. We were together now because we love each other, and that's what counts. "Maybe we should all eat in the living room with Finn. It will be like a picnic, but better, because there won't be dirt and bugs and things that ruin my clothes."

Carole smiled. "That's a lovely idea, Kurt. We can watch a movie together and spend some time as a family."

The timer buzzed, and Dad helped her get the chicken out of the oven. I peeked in on Finn, who was lying quietly on the couch. "Hey, Cowboy." His head came up and he smiled at me. I sat on the floor next to him. "Living room picnic?" He nodded enthusiastically.

I pressed on hand to his shoulder. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I should have listened to what you were trying to tell me, instead of pushing you away. Forgive me?"

_Yes. _I was getting a real smile now, the kind that showed a tiny dimple on the left cheek.

"I promise that I'll listen to you from now on, ok? No limits, no questions, even if it takes you an entire week to tell me what you want to."

"Kurt! Come make your plate, please." Dad was calling me now, and I turned back to the kitchen. "I'll be back in a minute." Finn's eyes bored holes into my back, the same way they had done to Dad a few minutes ago, and, again, I had no idea what he wanted. It was ok, though, I was pretty sure that Finn would tell me when he was ready.

I took some of the chicken breast (skinning it first, of course), and a bowl of salad, as well as some of the steamed veggies that made Finn gag but I loved. Carole had set some raw ones aside for him and I watched as she transferred them to his plate. She had given him a small salad, light dressing and one leg of the chicken. It wasn't much, compared to how he usually ate, but there were always seconds if his stomach was up to it.

We let Dad and Carole pick the movie, which was how we found ourselves all on the floor, the dishes forgotten as we all watched Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Johnny Depp, not Gene Wilder, even though no one in their right mind would find him sexy in this one. Well, at least I hoped not.

It all went really well, until the first Oompa-Loompa song came on. Finn instantly came to life, his attention fixed on the screen. By the second song, I was ready, and I pulled him to his feet. "Come on, you know this."

This movie had come from Finn and Carole's, and we had watched it together one morning, so I knew he had seen it at least twice. Judging by the dings and small scratches on the disc itself, more then twice was a safe bet. He rolled his eyes, but he let me guide him into position.

Of course, this was Finn Hudson we were talking about, and knowing each and every step in his brain didn't mean that he could translate that to his oversized body. But he jumped into it with both feet and his whole heart, which was how Finn did everything. It was that second that I knew he was going to be alright. Maybe not today, or next week, or even six months from now, but, when all of this was over, he would still be Finn.

With Finn's spastic moves and my attempts to avoid stepping on either the dinner dishes or our parents, the song was nearly over before we got in sync. Dad and Carole tried to hide it at first, but they were both laughing hysterically by the time we were done. Dad grabbed the remote. "Hang on, boys; I'm going to back it up. I want to see this dance again."

I had obviously been possessed by some sort of brain slug, because I actually took my position again, instead of sitting down and refusing to get sweaty. Certainly I would have rather died then have anyone else see me being so silly and wild. But Finn's good mood was contagious, and I let him drag me into even wilder moves this run through. By the time it was over, he had spun me in so many circles that I could barely stand up, though part of that might have been from me laughing so hard. Finn was laughing too, though, of course, he produced no actual noise.

Carole applauded us both enthusiastically. "That was…Burt, what was that?"

"That was quite possibly the most…_interesting _interpretation of a classic movie that I've ever seen. Kurt, I don't think I've seen you laugh like that in a long time."

Now that I thought about it, I wasn't sure that I remembered the last time I had laughed like this. Finn flopped next to me, his smile making the sweat stain on my shirt worth it. Well, almost.

Despite their best efforts, neither Finn nor I would get up and dance to the two remaining songs, though he tried to get Carole to get up and do it. She had laughed and told him that she was a lousy dancer, at which point he had made a few gestures that I chose to interpret as 'I can't either, but I did it'. She had still refused, leading to a dramatic sigh on his part to see if he could change her mind. It hadn't worked, and he had settled back down to finish the movie.

The entire evening had a surreal feel to it, with the police and the eating in the living room and the crazy dancing, but it had to be that way. I was willing to do anything, go to the ends of the earth, if it meant taking Finn's mind of what had happened today.

Once the movie was over, none of us really wanted to move and risk breaking the spell that we had fallen under. Finally, Carole smiled. "This was a great night. We should do this every week. A movie, or even some sort of game night. Finn's really good at Pictionary, aren't you, Finn?"

He beamed at the compliment, nodding happily. Dad jumped in. "Doesn't that sound like fun, Kurt? We haven't played much, since most games aren't much fun with only two people."

There was nothing less cool then spending one night a week playing games and watching movies with your father, his girlfriend, and your new stepbrother slash crush. But I couldn't deny a certain fascination with the idea. Dad and I hadn't done that much as a family since Mom had died, though, so I wasn't quite as over the idea as most teenagers might be.

"I would like that." My voice was soft.

Carole looked to the left. "Finn? What do you think?"

He shot her a thumbs up, then signed that he was tired and wanted to go to bed. It was an easy, clear, sign, and one of the few that both Carole and Dad knew. "Do you need anything before you go?"

It was still early, but he had slept poorly the night before, and certainly had a tough enough day today. I guessed I didn't blame him for wanting to get it over with. Finn told Carole and I goodnight, then, after a very, very long pause, signed it to Dad as well. It was one of the first times he had directly acknowledged Dad since he had come back, and I wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

Neither was anyone else, but Finn wasn't waiting for a response anyway. He gave Carole a kiss and went downstairs to do whatever it was he did to get ready for bed. It was only when he was gone that I remembered we had never finished his homework. I voiced that to Carole, who smiled gently and told me that it was fine, that that didn't matter right now.

Then she gestured for me to sit down. "Listen, Baby, your father told me what the two of you talked about earlier. About you feeling like you're expected to do too much for Finn?"

Dad! "I didn't mean that." Great. Now Carole was going to hate me because I was picking on her son.

"Yes, you did." She sat next to me on the couch. "It's ok, Kurt, I'm not upset with you. You're 17 years old, and I know that none of this is what you would have chosen. We've tossed you into the caretaker role, and that isn't fair to you"

It was hard for me to make Carole understand the problem, because it was hard for me to understand myself. "It's not that. It's not that don't want to spend time with Finn, or that I don't think he's great the way he is, because I do. It's just that…" I stopped there, because there was no way I could tell her that it was because I had a crush on her son. And since Dad was less then five feet away, telling her would be the same thing as telling him, and that would just ruin everything. "I don't know what it is. I got frustrated with him, and I said something I didn't mean. I really don't mind hanging out with him, I promise. And it is hanging out, it's not caretaking. Caretaking is doing stuff like feeding and diapers and stuff. Finn's fine."

She looked at me for a long time, and I remembered way too late that Carole could be as eerily perceptive as her son, and far more often. "Ok, as long as you aren't feeling too overwhelmed. Maybe you and I can talk a little more about this when we have our spa day."

_ And you, my friend, are big time busted._

I hated that voice with such a passion. "Sure, that would be great." I forced a smile. "I think I'm going to head downstairs, too. I really want to work on this book I've been reading, and I don't think that I'll bother Finn with the light. When he crashes, he crashes hard." Of course, both the melatonin and the antianxiety medication that he was still taking had a lot to do with that, but that was another thing we just didn't talk about.

I made a quick trip through the kitchen to warm some milk. While it was slowly heating, I noticed Finn's homework still on the counter, the pages covered in his messy scrawl. I picked it up, intending to figure out how far he had gotten and where we needed to start from in the morning, but I was distracted by the doodles on the paper. They were…honestly, they were a little disturbing.

Flipping through the pages, I counted four guns, six cars (two of which were running little stick people over), and sets of little people doing things that I didn't want to think too hard about. There was also a pair of handcuffs, repeated over and over, several times on each page.

_Maybe this is a good thing. Finn is obviously doing some heavy processing right now. My guess would be that he's trying to tell you guys what happened to him. So, what is Finn trying to tell you?_

That…ok, I could do this. I loved puzzles and I was good at interpreting things. Let's see, I understood the guns, Puck had been shot. Finn knew that, so he had seen it happen. As much as knowing that broke my heart, I couldn't say that it surprised me. The cars were…what?

I would say that the cars were telling me that that was how the man had taken him, but why were the cars hitting a person? Puck hadn't been hit by a car, and Finn had been tested extensively at the hospital, revealing no healed fractures or other signs that he had been severely injured.

_Maybe the guy just bumped him. If he was knocked to the ground and stunned, it would be easier to make him do whatever the guy wanted._

Belatedly, I realized again that I still didn't know the mans name. I knew that Finn wouldn't tell me, but Officer Logan could have.

_His name is Satan. It's Evil. It's Legion. Does it really matter what his name is? _

No, it didn't. I would find out soon enough, anyway. The arrest would be in the paper soon enough, then there would have to be a trial. So, back to the drawings. I skipped over the people, because I wasn't ready to deal with that yet. The handcuffs were easy; since I had seen Finn's wrists once he got back. So Finn wasn't telling me anything that I didn't already know. Someone had shot Puck. Someone had taken him in a car. Someone had restrained him with handcuffs.

_But the point is, he's telling you. Yes, you know all of those things already, but you don't know them from Finn. You know them from the police, and from the hospital records. This is Finn trying to ask you for help._

Maybe Finn wasn't trying to tell me at all. Carole checked his work as often as I did, and he might have been trying to tell her, instead. While I was thinking about it, the microwave dinged at me.

I removed the mug, careful to not burn myself and decided that, this time, I was taking the coward's way out. "Carole? Can you come look at this?" This way, no matter who Finn had by trying to tell (if he even cared, Finn might have just wanted _someone_ to listen to him) and I was off the hook for trying to figure this out alone.

"What is it, Baby?" She was there in a heartbeat. "Are you hurt?"

"No, but Finn drew this all over his homework. I thought you would want to see it." I thrust the offending pieces of paper at her.

She looked them over, one hand rising to cover her heart. "Thank you, Kurt, I'll deal with this. Why don't you do to bed now, while I talk to your father, ok?" One arm pulled me close and she kissed the top of my head.

I was more then alright with both of those things. "Ok, I love you."

Finn was asleep when I finally made it downstairs, one arm over that stupid lion and the blankets kicked all down to the foot of the bed. I tucked him back in and sat down on my bed, sipping my milk and just looking at him. He seemed a little restless tonight, especially considering his medication. Maybe he would talk again, like he had before, and give me some guess as to what was going on in his head.

But he didn't. By the time I had finished my milk and read a few chapters in my book, all Finn had done was roll over so that his back was to me. The words on the page wavered as I started to doze off, so I turned off the light and curled up.

What felt like seconds later, someone was shaking my shoulder. I tried to push the offending hand away, but it just shook me harder. "What?" I rolled over to find Finn staring at me. The desperation in his face was as effective wake-up as a slushie would have been. "What's wrong, Finn? Are you sick? Did something happen?"

He climbed onto the bed, kneeling there with one arm still wrapped around Wolf. His jaw worked for a minute and I sat up, sure that something important was about to happen. I switched on the light so I could see his hands clearly. I glanced over at the clock, realizing that it was now close to two in the morning. Something was very wrong. "What Finn?"

Finn squinted in the sudden light, his face thrown into sharp relief. Then he drew in a deep breath. "Kurt."

Had he just…oh God, he had. Finn was talking. His voice was a low rasp, gravelly from lack of use, but it was still his, a noise that I never thought I would hear again. I tried to keep myself from just knocking him down and smothering him with kisses. Samantha had said to play it cool and act like it was no big deal, or I might frighten him back into silence. "What, Cowboy?"

"I-"His voice cracked and he had to clear his throat before he could keep going. "You said you would listen to me. Will you?"

My thigh was going numb from where my fingers were digging so tightly into it, but I nodded. "Yes. Whatever you want to tell me, I'll listen to you."

As it turned out, Finn remembered exactly what had happened the night Puck died, and everything that had happened since. He looked at me for a brief minute, then nodded and began to tell me the story.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: I have been getting quite a few PMs and reviews asking whether or not this fic will end up slash. About 50% seem to want it and 50% don't. The unfortunate truth is….I'm not sure. I've never had a fic where I've been so back and forth about it, and every time I make one choice, the next chapter changes things. So, I know this isn't what anyone wanted to hear, but I don't know either.

Also, where I can I get transcripts for Glee episodes. My coydog ate disk five from season one, and I need those episodes for my other fic.

_**I was amazed as people must be who are seized and kidnapped, and who realize that in the strange world of their captors they have a value absolutely unconnected with anything they know about themselves."  
— AliceMunro**_

Before he could start, Finn pointed at the light. "Off."

I understood that. Some things were better said in half light, or none at all. I flipped it off and scooted back against the headboard. Finn settled in next to me clutching Wolf to his chest. "I, uh, I don't know how to start."

"I tend to find the beginning works well." I smiled at him to let him know I was kidding, and offered him a spot under the blankets. It was really too hot for two people to be that close, but I thought he might appreciate the comfort.

He snuggled closer. "I didn't really want to go with Puck, but I didn't want to stay home either. I was so pissed off." His voice was almost amused, as if he couldn't believe how foolish he had been.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I know that I was being really stupid, and desperate, and I know that it's all my fault that you were out there and that you got hurt." I was desperately trying not to cry, because Finn wasn't crying, and if he could get through this without tears, so could I.

Finn shook his head. "No. I mean, yeah, that was pretty creepy, dude, but it wasn't just you. It was everything. You and Mom and your father, you were all this cool family and I just…wasn't."

Something slippery churned about in my stomach. "What do you mean?"

He sighed, and the words came tumbling out, faster and faster. "Mom thought you were so cool, and you two were going shopping and going to the spa and doing all this stuff that she and I didn't do and she was so happy, and it was always Kurt, Kurt, Kurt! Kurt cleans up after himself, Kurt gave me a makeover and now I'm all hot like Stiflers mom, Kurt can cook." His voice rose until he was almost yelling. "Then your Dad wanted us to move in and no one even told me about it! They told you, but they didn't tell me. No one asked if I wanted to move, or share a room, or anything. No one cared, not even Mom." His voice broke again and he started to cough.

I gave him my water glass and let him drink what was left in it. It had never occurred to me that Finn felt so deeply about all of this. I remembered how jealous I had been of Dad paying attention to Finn, so why was it so shocking that he felt the same way about Carole? She was all he had, literally the only parent he had ever known, and I had poached her right out from under him.

Apologizing again would be stupid, so I reached out and stroked his arm. "I didn't realize you felt like that. You should have said something to me."

He shook his head. "You were really happy, and I know your Dad was happy, too, because you liked her so much and weren't being all jealous like you were before. And Mom was really happy, and I wanted her to stay that way. If I made a big deal out of it, then they might break up and she would cry." 

In other words, in Finn's mind, it was ok for him to be miserable, as long as everyone else was happy. I'm not sure why that surprised me, since he had done that before, multiple times. "I wish you had said something, though."

He coughed out a laugh, the sound dry and brittle. He just wasn't used to using his voice any more, and he was having trouble now. "Yeah, well, I do too."

"Let me get you some water. Or do you want something else? Some caffeine might help you keep your focus."

"Ok." He wiped at his eyes, even though they were dry. "Don't get Mom."

How could he read my mind like that? I had been planning on sneaking up the stairs as soon as I was out of his sight. "You're sure you don't want her?" At his nod, I sighed. "Ok, I'll get you a soda and keep our parents out of it for now."

_Thanks. _ My heart sank a little when he signed it as opposed to speaking, but I didn't let it show. Finn had come this far, and I had to trust that he would still be speaking when I got back.

I grabbed two Cokes and a Gatorade out of the fridge and raced back downstairs, praying that this wouldn't end up being one of those dreams I had been having lately, where everything magically fixed itself.

Finn was still in my bed, still resting that stuffed lion over his lap, his dark eyes watching me. He grabbed one of the Cokes and drank deeply. I waited until I thought I would go insane, then tried prompting him. "So you left the house that night…"

"Right. P-Puck and I were supposed to hang out, but I mostly just wanted to bitch. But then I thought we could get pizza at the bowling alley and I could bitch at the same time. Sometimes I'm pretty smart."

"He wanted to bitch, too, and complain about the baby. I mean, about Beth. He wanted to keep her really bad. He even wanted to keep her without Quinn, and be a single dad. I though it was a bad idea, but I didn't say that. Cause, you know, he's my bro, and bros stick together, even if it's a bad idea."

"We went to the bowling alley, but all the lanes were full, so we were going to get a burger instead and come back later. I wanted to just go to McDonalds, because it was closer, but he was wanted to go to White Castle, and it was his car, so we had to go." His voice was fading, and I couldn't tell if it was because his voice was giving out, or that he was getting to the scary part of the story.

I didn't want to push him too far, so I stroked his shoulder again. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. You can have a break any time."

"No. I can do it." He blinked a few times and took a deep, calming, breath. "We were almost to White Castle when we saw this lady on the side of the road, trying to flag us down. Puck didn't want to stop, but she was holding a baby and I told him he had to. I mean, dude, it was a baby!"

For a few seconds he stalled, caught up in the memories. "If I had listened to Puck, he would still be alive." 

"It's not your fault. There's no way you could have known what was going to happen." I was still stroking, and now he leaned into my touch. My mind was whirring at a million miles an hour. There was a woman involved? But Finn had chosen a man from the lineup. What sort of woman would help someone commit murder and kidnapping?

"I know that with my brain, but not with my heart." It was such a simple, profound statement, that it made my tears break free. I hoped that he couldn't see it in the dark room.

"Anyway, we pulled over and she was thanking us and telling us she had a flat tire and she couldn't get it fixed and she was so worried that no one would stop. She had the baby all wrapped up in a blanket so it wouldn't get too cold. But when we got back to the car, there was a man in there, sitting in the passenger seat. She said that her husband was a par-, para-, pag-, that he couldn't walk." He stopped again and shook his head, as if he was trying to clear it. "By that time my spidey sense was tingling, and I think Puck's was too, because he was kind of jerking his head back at his truck. Then the guy pointed at me and I might have said something I don't know because there was this noise, like the whole world was ending and fire and Puck's head…it just kind of gone. I mean, literally gone. And I was screaming and the guy jumped out of the car and he grabbed me and he was a liar, Kurt, he could walk after all and he pushed me in the backseat before I could figure out what had happened and I was still screaming and he had the gun right in my face and I didn't know what to do and he was saying that he would shoot me if I tried to run."

The last few sentences came out all in one breath and he had to stop so he could breathe again. When he finally spoke, he was calm, almost detached. "That was really stupid of me."

He seemed to be waiting for me to say something, or maybe he was just checking that I hadn't fallen asleep and was still listening to him. Like anyone could sleep after what I had heard. "What was stupid?"

"Everything. Puck and me shouldn't have stopped; we should have just called 911. We should have left when we saw that man in the car, and I should have run like hell. That's what everything I looked up since I got home said. That, even if they tell you they'll kill you; it's kind of hard to hit a moving target. We weren't that far from some stuff, I probably could have made it."

"But I didn't run and I was so busy staring at the gun that I wasn't even looking at the lady any more, and she had one of those shock things that she hit me in the neck with and I don't know happened after that. I guess she knocked me out."

If I understood him correctly, she had tasered Finn. In the neck. She had put a taser to the side of his neck and shocked him. That close to his brain, she could have easily killed him. What if Finn had had a bad heart, or epilepsy? She didn't know anything about him and he could be as dead as Puck right now.

"See? I have a scar from where she did it." He pulled down the neck of his T-shirt, and pointed at two small, round, scars. I had seen them before, but assumed that they were freckles.

Finn was breathing funny; now, soft whimpers and rough gasps, and I gave in to my instincts and wrapped my arms around him, letting him nuzzle into my neck, seeking the comfort of another person. I ran my fingers up and down his back, barely scraping the skin. "It's alright. You made it, and you got home. You're safe here with me. I won't let anyone hurt you, and I won't let anything happen to you now."

"I know." He pressed in even closer. "I don't know where we were when I woke up, but it was light out and we were in the car. The baby was laying on the floorboards. It wasn't real, just a doll. That was why she was keeping it wrapped up, not because she thought it would be cold. The woman had a water bottle and she was trying to get me to drink but I wouldn't. Then the guy looks at me and says 'look kid, I don't care if you drink or not, but you're ours now, so you'll have to give in eventually."

The more he spoke, the lower my stomach sank. While Finn himself might have been a random victim, the kidnapping had been exceedingly well planned. They had known that most people would stop for a woman, especially one with a baby in her arms. The kidnappers had worked together to first kill Puck, then subdue Finn. It was…honestly, a little too practiced.

_He's not the first person they've grabbed. They did it so well because they've done it before. What happened to those other people? Were they boys? Girls? Younger then Finn, even?_

The thought was too terrifying to dwell on. "What happened then?" 

"We drove for two days. I would have run when we stopped for gas, but one of the sat with me the whole time, with that shock gun thing on my neck. They wouldn't even let me out to pee; I had to do it in a fucking water bottle. It was humiliating and I knew Puck was dead but I kept thinking that I needed to do something to help him. The woman kept trying to feed me, but I wouldn't touch anything, even the good stuff like French Fries."

He coughed again, and I could tell that his voice was getting rougher and rougher. He was tired, but he soldiered on. "You want to know the funny part? I knew that he wasn't going to kill me right away. If he had been planning on doing that, he would have done it in Lima. Plus, that guy kept looking at me in the mirror and smiling in a really bad way."

I didn't think it was possible to feel even more sick and disgusted, but I did. Finn was watching my face, though, and I knew he was looking for those feelings. Subtlety sometimes escaped him, and I knew he wouldn't understand that I was disgusted with that man for doing what he did, not with Finn himself. So I just concentrated on looking concerned and neutral, nodding in an attempt to keep him going.

Finn shook his head. "I tried opening the door on the highway, because I thought even if I jumped out and got smashed in the road, it would totally be better then whatever they were going to do to me. But they had the baby locks on the door, and I couldn't open it."

"We drove for at a day and a half, all night, too. She was really pissed about that. She wanted to stop at a motel and they had this big fight about how they shouldn't have gone so far to get me and it wouldn't have mattered if they had gone all the way to Lima or just somewhere in the middle, like Colorado. So I told them that they could leave me somewhere, like a gas station or even on the side of the highway. He got really mad and leaned over the set with the stun gun again. He didn't touch me with it, but he pulled the trigger and made the blue light jump so I would know he was serious. I didn't say anything after that."

I could see why. Finn pushed away from me, settling back into his previous position against the headboard. "I didn't want to make him mad, so I kept making myself fall asleep. I thought if I was sleeping he wouldn't bother me."

That explained Finn's sudden ability to fall asleep when he was stressed out. It was his only way of protecting his mind from everything that was happening. I nodded. "That was smart."

He shrugged. "I did try and run when we got to their house. They had the sort of garage that's attached to the house, and they pulled all the way in and closed the door before he let me out, but I thought I could get out the side door. I bulldozed him, just like in football practice, and I was able to knock him down. But when I made it to the door, it was locked, and too heavy for me to break open, it didn't have windows or anything." His head cocked to the side as he thought. "Actually, there weren't any windows in the garage at all. All the windows were filled in with, like concrete or something. So I just kept slamming into the door and I hurt my shoulder but I knew I wasn't going to get out any other way. Except, you know, I wasn't going to get out at all."

Again, he stopped, and again I prompted him to continue. "What did he do when you did that?"

Now tears had formed in his dark eyes, and when he spoke, his voice was so wounded that it made me want to cry as well. "He laughed. He stood there watching me run around like…like a chicken with its fucking head cut off, and he just kept on laughing. Then he turned over to Lily and he said 'well, look at that, honey, he's got some spirit after all. I was starting to wonder.' The he looked at me and told me that I could run around all I wanted, and I could scream all I wanted, but no one was going to hear me, and I wasn't going to get out. Then he took Lily inside and just left me in the garage. It was really hot in there."

I was trying to keep track of everything he was telling me, so I could repeat it all to the police later. "Her name is Lily?"

Finn nodded. "What was his name? Do you know?"

"His name is Joseph. I don't know his last name, and I don't know where his house is." Obviously he knew what I was trying to do.

"Ok. What happened after that?"

He shrugged. "I kept banging on the door, and the windows, and I even tried to get the garage doors back up, but I couldn't. There was a button on the garage wall, but you needed a code to make it open. Finally I couldn't breathe because it was so dirty and hot and I just sat down. I didn't want cry, because I knew he was going to make fun of me, but I couldn't help it." He sighed. "Lily came out and gave me some water. I wasn't going to drink it, because I thought it might be drugged or something, but I finally did. She was really happy about it."

My stomach was rolling at the thought of Finn, overheated and terrified, sitting on the floor of a locked garage in the middle of the desert. "That you took the water, you mean? Not that you were there?"

That threw him, and he had to think about it. "She was happy that I took the water. She said that it would be easier if I cooperated with her, and that I needed to trust that they wouldn't hurt me. Then she went back inside so I would have time to think things over."

Unbelievable. They had killed Puck, grabbed Finn and driven him across the country, and now they were holding him prisoner, and they wanted him to trust them? Finn kept on, apparently unaware of my mental battle. "But I think she was happy that I was there, too. When I was there, Joseph kept bugging me and not her. I think that made her happy, but she really didn't want to hurt me, I swear."

I wasn't so sure about that. "Did she? Hurt you, I mean."

"Not like he did." His eyes were dark and turned inward, and I was terrified that he was going to sink back into that depressive state again.

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry. Why don't you tell the story your way?" 

"I sat there for a really long time before Joseph came back out. He pointed at me and asked if I was going to behave myself now. I told him I was, so he brought me in the house and said he was going to show me my room. But it wasn't really a _room_ room, not like I have here. It was even smaller then the one I had at my old house and it just had a mattress on the floor. Oh, and a bucket. That was it. No blankets, no windows, no anything. Then he said that I needed to stay there until they called me, so I went in and laid down and he locked me in. The room was so short that I kind of had to curl up to make my legs fit."

I couldn't believe that he had taken it all so calmly. "You just let him lock you up?"

_Like you would have done anything different. Please, Kurt, you're nowhere near as tough as you like to pretend you are. You would have shut down long before you even got to the house._

He shrugged. "What would you have done? I was locked in the house anyway, and I would rather be locked somewhere that they weren't. I mean, if I was locked in, that meant that they were locked out. Plus, I was scared."

"Good point. What happened then?" I had to keep him moving, to stop him from dwelling on what had happened.

"I went to sleep. I thought if I could do that, then I would wake up and find out that everything was ok again. I would be at home, and you would be picking the movie for us to watch. I really did want to come home and watch with you, I swear."

Honestly, I had all but forgotten about our aborted movie night. "I know that you did."

"I don't know how long I was asleep, because there wasn't any clock or anything, but I heard the key in the lock, and Joseph was standing there again. I didn't know what else to do, so I just sat there and watched him. He was…he was really nice. He sat down on the floor next to me, and asked me if I was feeling alright, and if I was hungry or thirsty. I said no, even though I was both. He kept saying that he wanted me to be comfortable, but I just wanted to go home. Only I didn't say that, because I thought he would be mad. Then he looked at my bed and he asked what had happened to the sheets. I told him that there hadn't been any, and he said that Lily had made a mistake, and he would make sure that I got some sheets and a pillow. He acted like he really cared about me." Finn stopped there, and looked at the wall, his fingers tightening on the plush lion until they were buried deeply into its mane. "Do you know what he said then?"

I had thought that it was a rhetorical question, but he seemed to be waiting for me to reply. "No, I don't know what he said."

"He smiled at me, like we were two guys sharing a secret, and he said 'I'm sorry about that, Son. Sometimes Lily forgets things, and she must have forgotten to put clean sheets on after our last guest left.' Someone else had lived in that little room, and he was gone now. That was when I knew that I was going to die. Maybe not that night, or even in a week, but I was never going home again."

The utter hopelessness in his voice, even though he had made it out after all, made me reach out and wrap an arm around his shoulders. Our height difference, even sitting down, was enough that it was an awkward hold, but he seemed to like it. He spoke better when we weren't making eye contact, so I looked down at his hands instead, and he kept going. "I told him that it was ok, and he asked me if I needed anything again. I told him that I wanted the bathroom, but he wouldn't let me go. He just pointed at the bucket and said that he was sorry, but that I would have to use that until he could trust me. Then he left and locked the door again. It was really dark, cause there were no windows and I just sat there for a long time, but I was bored and I finally went back to sleep."

His voice was cracking again, having been used more in the past half hour then it had been in the preceding six months. He coughed a little to try and clear it. I patted gently, but he pulled away. "We can stop if you want. You can stay here with me if you would be more comfortable."

"No. I need to finish. I couldn't really figure out how long I had to stay in that room, but Joseph would come by every once in a while. Maybe it was every day, or maybe it was a few times a day, but he was there a lot. He brought me a pillow and two blankets, and he made sure I had food and always had water. He even brought in a little nightlight and a book so I could have something to do and I wouldn't be in the dark all the time."

"He was nice to you." I tried to keep from throwing up.

"Kind of. But even when he was being nice, he was being mean. Like, he would bring me food, but it would be too hot or too cold, or really salty. I could still eat it, but not enjoy it. Or the book he brought me? It was called Room, and it was about a little boy and his mother who were trapped in a she'd because she had been kidnapped, like 10 years before. And even though he would come to the doorway and open it so I could see out, he would just stand there and look at me until I wished he would go away because it was so scary."

He leaned towards me. "Could you rub my back again? That felt really good."

"Sure." I traced my fingernails up and down on his spine. "How's that?"

"Good. So, it was like that for 12 days. I know, because he opened the door on the twelfth day, and he told me that I could come out if I behaved myself. He was holding the taser, so I didn't try anything. He made me stay in front of him and just gave me directions. When we went by the back door, he pointed at the alarm system and told me that if I tried to run, the alarm would go off and he would catch me before I could make it down the driveway. Then he would break my legs and I would never have another chance."

His muscles were shivery under my hand, and I knew that he was gearing up to tell me something terrible. "He let me go in the kitchen, and told me that I could have anything I wanted out of the fridge. I was feeling really nervous and kind of like I might blow chunks, but I thought he would mad if I didn't take anything, so I got a Sprite. Then Lily came in and smiled at me and she said 'Hi, Finn, do you want to come in and watch some TV?' That really freaked me out, because I hadn't told her what my name was."

"I kind of shook my head and all I really wanted to do was go back to my little room because at least I was safe there, but Joseph pushed me over to the couch and said 'Come on now, Finn, you don't want to be rude, do you? We TiVo'd this just for you.' So I sat down on the couch in between them and watched what they had taped. Do you know what it was?" 

"No." For some reason, Finn seemed to think that I could read his mind, or that I had actually been present when all of this had happened. "Tell me."

"It was you guys. You and Mom and Burt, all on TV and all begging for whoever had me to send me home. Mom was crying, but you and Burt weren't. And I was sorry that I had been such a jerk, and that I thought that Mom didn't love or want me any more, because she did. Lily and Joseph were watching me, and I kept crying and asking them to take me home, but they wouldn't. Then Joseph pointed at you and said 'so, that's your brother? If I had known that was hanging around that shithole town, I wouldn't have bothered with you. Do you want me to let you go, Finn?'. Of course I said yes. Then he said 'ok, I'll let you go. But if I take you home, I'm going to take your brother instead. Do you want that?' and I said no. Then he said if I was too much trouble, he would take you instead. I really wanted you to be safe."

"But you shouldn't have had to sacrifice your safety for mine." I was crying now, the guilt becoming overwhelming.

Finn shrugged. "I was already caught. He wouldn't have let me go home, no matter what he said. I couldn't be safe, so had to make sure that you were. Anyway, Joseph looked at me and he asked me if I was going to behave myself from now on and I said yes. He was smiling really big, and it was freaky as hell. Then he asked me what I would do to keep you safe?"

I didn't want to hear this. I knew exactly where this was going, and it was somewhere so dark and twisted that I couldn't bear it. But I had to. Finn had borne it all, frightened and alone, and all I had to do was hear about it later, in my own safe warm bed. He sighed, his back moving under my hand. "I said that I would do whatever he wanted me to. So he smiled at me, only it was a bad smile, like the wolf in the story when he knows he has Little Red Riding Hood in his claws. So he stood up and said fine, that if I was that concerned about you, I should be willing to make sacrifices and then he…he…."

Finally his own tears started to fall, rolling down his flushed face. I smoothed his hair back and made comforting little noises that weren't words at all but something deeper. My heart wavered between wanting to help him out by making a few suggestions, and understanding that he was already humiliated enough. So I watched the numbers tick by on the bedside clock. 2:48, 2:49, 2:50….By the time 2:55 rolled around I took pity on him and gently prompted. "Did he hurt you, Finn? Did he make you do something you didn't want to? Something sexual?"

He nodded slowly and my world broke apart. "He asked if I knew about sex, and I told him I did. Then he asked if I knew about how men had sex and I said yes, because, you know, there are only so many places that you can stick it. And he asked if I had ever had sex and I told him yes. He laughed when I told him that, and asked if I had ever gotten a blow job, and I had to say no. He thought that was even funnier, and asked if me having sex had been with a prostitute then, and I said no, that it had been my girlfriend, even though it wasn't. Finally he sat down next to me and said 'well, Finn, that's a pity, because I like a little experience, but I'm sure you can figure it out."

Finn's voice was getting tinier and tinier. "Lily was watching me, and I wanted to ask her for help, but I knew that she wouldn't help me. She was on his side and there was no one on mine. Then Joseph grabbed my shoulder and told Lily to start on dinner. He said that he was going to take their new boy upstairs and give him a lesson." He stopped and looked up for a count of 10. "Lily touched my back when I walked by her, just like you're doing now. I think she was trying to tell me that she was sorry."

Rage burned behind my eyes. "That doesn't make her any less guilty. She let him do what he did, and she's as bad as he is." Finn couldn't actually feel bad for her, could he? 

_How about you listen to him and quit the commentary? You told him not 8 hours ago that you would listen to him, no questions asked. The last thing Finn needs right now is you judging him for what he went through._

"No, she's guilty, too. But I don't know if she's the same amount of guilty as he is. I mean, he made her do stuff, she never did it by herself." That cute little furrow had appeared between his brows again, and I was starting to suspect he was rather conflicted on the issue.

"Ok, I'm sorry. It just frustrates me to think that someone hurt you." I kept looking down, biting my lips so that I wouldn't blurt out how much I loved him.

"You're a really great guy. Anyway, he took me upstairs to their bedroom. It was really nice, and had a bathroom in it and a waterbed and actual windows. Joseph let me look around for a few minutes, and then said that I could take a shower. I didn't really want to, but it had been a week and there was no air conditioning in my room so I was pretty disgusting. He finally looked at me and said 'Look, Finn, this is going to happen whether you clean up or not. So don't think that you refusing to take care of yourself is going to change anything.' I took the shower, and when I came out he had clean clothes for me. Jeans and a T-shirt with the Cheshire cat on the front. No shoes, though, and he had taken the ones I was wearing. I put the clothes on, so he wouldn't see me naked, even though it didn't really matter. I mean, I was stuck, and he could see me naked whenever he wanted me to. Then he sat down on the side of the bed and said that it was time for me to have a lesson and I had to get on my knees." He shook his head again. "Do I have to tell you what happened or do you get it?"

"I get it." Actually, I would rather he didn't tell me the details. Just knowing that it had happened was terrifying enough.

"Ok. When he was….done, I was still sitting there on the floor, trying not to throw up. He sat down next to me and patted my back. You know that he actually told me that I had done a good job? He asked if I was sure I had never done it before, or even had it done to me. He was laughing, like we were buddies. Like you and I might tease each other about stuff. Then he looked at me and asked me if we could talk, man to man. I said sure. He stood up and said 'Look Finn, you seem like a smart boy to me. Do you understand why I can't let you go?'

I tried to imagine what it would be like, to see someone die, be kidnapped and driven cross country, only to be locked up and sexual abused, then told my life was over in the space of a week. How had Finn managed to survive? "What….what did you say when he said that?"

"I said yes. I mean, it wasn't like I expected him to let me go anyway." Finn yawned deeply. "Can I tell you just a little more tonight and go back to bed? I'm tired."

He was swinging wildly back and forth between wanting to tell the entire story, and wanting to sleep. "Whatever makes you comfortable, Cowboy." I didn't want to push, but I was afraid that if I let Finn stop, he wouldn't start again.

"When I told me that, he smiled at me and said that I could stay with them, and be part of their family. It would be a new start, and I could even pick a new name if I wanted. But I didn't want to. So he picked Jeremy, and I said that that was fine. When he took me downstairs, Lily was making steaks for us all. She even asked me how I wanted mine to be done. Then, when she was finished, I got to sit down at the table and eat with them, as much as I wanted. Joseph told her that I had agreed to stay with them, and that my new name was Jeremy. They never called me Finn after that, not once." He dropped into a moody silence after that, kneading at the blankets.

Thanks to my research, I was able to see that they had used a classic ploy on him. The five days spend in that dark airless room had broken him down, made him entirely dependant of them. The provided his food, his water, his light, even companionship. In some twisted way, he was grateful to them, no matter how scared of them he was.

Actually, it sounded like every act of violence or terror was followed by an offer of kindness. They killed Puck and grabbed him, but they also offered food and water. They locked the garage doors on him, but didn't leave him in the overheated space. Joseph imprisoned him in a small room, but he didn't starve him. He even brought Finn a book to read. Even the molestation had been followed up by more freedom and a nice dinner, the nicest he had had so far. It all sent Finn the message that if he let them do things to him, he would get rewarded for it.

I thought that Finn might just stop right there, and be done for the night, but after an incredibly long pause, he started to speak again. "After dinner, they let me watch TV again. I sat on the floor, away from them so that Joseph couldn't touch me, and watched CSI. When he saw that, he gave me that wolf smile again, and told me not to count on anything like that happening in real life. He said that no one knew who they were, and they had no connection to me, or Ohio, so no one would suspect them. I told him that I knew that, even though I was still hoping that someone would come over and recognize me, or at least know that I needed help. But no one came at all. I guess it's hard to have friends over when you're keeping someone prisoner in the back room."

"I can see where that would put a damper on ones social life." I whispered it to him, and was gratified to see a tiny smile in response. 

"That night, Joseph told that because I had done so well, and been such a good sport, that he would leave the door to my room open if I wanted. Only, he was going to have to make sure I didn't get up and wander around, because we didn't know each other that well, not yet. So he brought out these handcuffs. They weren't, like regular ones that just had a little chain, though. These had a really long chain between them, like, this long." He held out his arms to demonstrate.

About three feet, then. Before I could consider the implications of that, Finn was talking again. "I didn't want to let him do it, but I didn't want to make him mad at me either, so I let him put the cuffs on. They hurt, and, when I laid down, it pulled my one hand way up over my head, but at least I could see out. By the next morning, my wrist was all bruised up. But it was worth it. At least I wasn't all caged up like a rat."

_And you wondered why he had suddenly become so claustrophobic. Being locked in a closet for a week, then restrained to a three foot radius would do that to you._

"It was kind of a pattern after that. The more things I let Joseph do to me, the more things they let me do. After a couple of weeks, he was only chaining me up at night, and letting me walk around the house during the day. But only when they were both home or he was home and she wasn't. If it was just Lily, he still chained me up. I think he thought I would hurt her and make her give me the code to the alarm."

"Would you have?" I would have. If I had to kill that woman to get free, I would have done it and not felt at all bad. But I wasn't Finn. I didn't have his gentle, good, naïve nature.

"Dude, you don't hit a girl. Plus, I don't think she would have told me, even if I did threaten her. I think that she was a prisoner like I was."

That didn't make much sense. "I thought you just told me that she was allowed to leave the house. If she could leave, she wasn't a prisoner."

He shrugged. "At the end, I could leave, too. There's a lot of ways to make someone be a prisoner, Kurt."

It might have been the most profound thing to ever come out of Finn Hudson's mouth. "Sorry, continue on."

A sad, funny, smile quirked at his lips. "You know what happened then, Kurt. Do I really have to say it?"

"He made you have sex with him." If Finn wouldn't say it, I would.

"Yeah. You can't tell anyone about this part, ok? Not even Mom or your Dad." His eyes rose and stared deeply into my own.

I held up a pinky, and he curled his own around it. Of course, if it came down to it, I would tell someone. I had to. A crime had been committed against a child, and that man needed to be charged with it. Then I had to suppress a laugh at the irony. All I had wanted to know was the kidnapper's name, and, now that I knew it was Joseph, I couldn't bear calling him by it. I was so creeped out by the familiarity that Finn did it with, that I couldn't bring myself to do the same. Superstitious, yes, but a necessary evil if I was going to make it through this night with my sanity intact.

There was another silence then, and I thought for the second or third time that Finn had stalled out and wasn't going to tell me anything more, despite the sacred pinky promise. Finally he pressed his face into the lions tawny body and mumbled something that I couldn't make out. I rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension there. "What, Finn?"

He turned his head very slightly, just enough for me to hear him clearly. "I said, I got hard. Even though I didn't want to, and I definitely didn't want him to do what he was doing. That's the part you can't tell anyone. Because they'll all think I'm…" He stopped.

"Gay?" I was about to reassure him that he wasn't, when he shook his head.

"No, not gay. I just don't want them to think that I'm a pervert, that's all. That, you know, I liked him doing that."

I didn't have the heart to tell him that, in Lima, Ohio, being gay and being a pervert were pretty much considered the same thing. So I went with mindless comfort instead. "It doesn't make you gay _or_ a pervert, ok? The human body is designed to like being touched, and when someone touches you in a sexual way, your body reacts. It doesn't mean that your brain or your heart liked what was going on, just that your body did."

He nodded. "I get that. I mean, my heart didn't really like what I did with Santana either, but my body liked it a lot."

Ew. I was glad that he wasn't feeling badly about himself, but did I really need the mental image of him and Santana going at it? I think not.

"Joseph liked that, that I was all excited, even though I wasn't. He kept saying that he knew I would like it eventually, and telling me that it was so much fun when we were both into it." His head cocked a little as he thought. "I think that it made him feel better to see that he was getting me hard. I think it made him feel less like a rapist."

So Finn _did_ understand that he had been raped. "He _should_ feel like a rapist."

"Well, yeah, I know, but I think that that's what he thought. Or something. I don't know. I just know that he was a lot happier when he thought that I liked it. And I wanted to keep him happy. Even though I knew he was going to kill me eventually, I didn't want it to be right then."

"After he did that, things got weird. He started acting like I was his boyfriend. I mean, he'd ask me what I wanted for dinner, and let me do whatever I wanted in the house. He stopped chaining me up, except at night. It was almost like he wanted me and Lily to be friends, like we were a family. He brought me an X-box and about a hundred games for it. When he came home from work, he wanted me to greet him at the door, and, when I did, he would smile at me and want a kiss. He even made up little nicknames for me, like we were in love. Boomer, Moose, Bear, all kinds of stupid little things"

I made a mental note to never call him, or anyone else, by any of those names. Then something nagged at the back of my mind. "Where was Lily when all this was happening?"

"I don't know. Sometimes she was there, and sometimes she wasn't, but even when she was in the room with us, it was like she wasn't there at all. I think she felt bad when she looked at me, not because I had taken Joseph away, but because she knew how unhappy I was. She was unhappy too. Except…" He stopped and his brow furrowed deeply.

"Except what?"

"Except, I think that she would rather it be me then her. Sometimes, when it was just the two of us, she was really nice to me. She would call him and ask if he would stop at McDonalds and bring home a milkshake for me. No real reason, just because. Or she would show me how to cook and bake stuff. But when he was around, she could be mean. He _made_ her be that way."

I didn't think that I believed that. No matter how bad things were between her and her husband, it was no excuse for her to drag Finn into it. She could have told him and Puck to leave when they approached her, could have released Finn during a rest stop, could have let him go when he husband wasn't home. No, I think Finn was right, that it came down to him versus her, and she would choose herself every time.

Finn kept staring at the comforter. "Sometimes, when it was just us, she would lean over and pat my back and she would say 'I'm sorry, Jeremy. I wish it didn't have to be this way. I wish I could let you go home.' But, even though she was being nice, she still didn't call me Finn. She knew that I wasn't leaving."

"How was she mean to you, then? Did she hit you?" I was starting to think I knew what had happened, but I wanted to hear him say it.

"No." His voice was dark and, when our eyes met, I knew what he was trying to tell me. He knew that I knew, and hastened to fix things. "He _made_ her. He said that, in case anything happened, in case they got caught, they both had to be guilty, not just him. That way she wouldn't start thinking about opening her stupid mouth and screwing it all up. She wouldn't have done it if it wasn't for him."

I wondered what sort of rabbit hole New Mexico was, where it was ok for a woman to rape a 17 year old boy, just so she and her husband were equally guilty. "I'm sorry, Finn."

He picked quietly at the blanket. "I though it might feel different, since she was a girl and everything. I thought that I might like it more, but I didn't. I hated her and I hated that I got hard and I wanted to die."

He took a deep, shaky breath. "There's more. They, uh…." When his voice broke this time, I knew that it wasn't from overuse. "They took pictures. Of what they did, I mean. My picture could be on some perverts website, and I didn't want to!" Now he was crying, soft little whimpers that he covered up by pressing his face into the pillow."

I tried to get him to turn towards me, so I could hold him properly, but it was like trying to maneuver wet carpet. He didn't want to be comforted like that, so I settled for rubbing his back instead. Finn didn't push me away, so I considered it a win.

Normally I would sing when I was unhappy, but, try as I might, I couldn't think of a song that was appropriate for finding out that your crush had not only been brutalized the way Finn had, but that his abuse might be on display for everyone in the world to see. But the silence was too overwhelming, so I finally chose an old favorite.

"When I find myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me.

Speaking words of wisdom, 'Let it be'

And in my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me

Speaking words of wisdom, 'Let it be'"

His body relaxed slightly under my hands. Not much, but I was willing to take what I could get. I patted gently, keeping the beat of the song I was singing. When I was done, Finn still hadn't looked up, or even broken the rhythm of his muffled sobs, so I started over again. All those years of singing through two hour long showers had worked, and I could keep this up all night if I had to.

By the third run through, though, Finn had settled down and was no longer breathing in jerking, heaving gasps. Now he was so quiet that I thought he might have fallen asleep. I stroked the nape of his neck, which was now damp with sweat. "Finn?"

The dark head turned without hesitation, his eyes bleary and bloodshot. "What?"

"I just wasn't sure if you were awake or not." I kept stroking, losing both Finn and myself in the rhythm. He closed his eyes, though this time I knew he was still with me, going over things in his mind.

Finally he looked at me again. "Well? Aren't you going to ask?"

There were about a million things I wanted to ask, and I had no idea which one of them Finn might have picked up on. "Ask what?"

"How I got out. I already told you that I thought I was going to die, weren't you listening?" 

"I was. How did you get out, Finn?"

"After he…you know, he started letting me leave the house a few times. I think he knew that I was starting to get crazy with nothing to do but play X-box and watch TV. It sounds fun, but it sucks in real life. He said that I could go for a ride in his car, but not to ever talk to anyone, and not to get out. He had the baby locks on again, so I couldn't have gotten out if even if I wanted to. If I did, he would break both of my legs and cut my eyes out. Then he would come back and get you to be my replacement." I was getting the impression that I was almost superfluous now, that Finn was mostly talking to himself.

"You have no idea how cool it was to be able get out and breathe fresh air, even if he made me keep the car windows up. He said that if I was good, and didn't make a scene, he would get me a reward."

He stopped for a second, his eyes narrowing. "You know, I don't think he would have broken my legs and all that. I think he was just trying to scare me. But I didn't think that then. So I kept my head down and let him drive me around town. I didn't even look up at any of the other cars, because I didn't want him to think that I was trying anything. I was crying, but he acted like he couldn't see it."

I still didn't understand why Finn hadn't tried to get help. Even with the doors locked, he could have tried to lunge out the driver's side; he could have rolled down the window and screamed for help, he could have pitched such a fit at a red light that someone took notice. He could have done a lot of things to help himself, but he hadn't done anything.

_It's called learned helplessness, and he's been showing it since he came back, too._

"We didn't stop anywhere, and he finally said that he would take me to McDonalds since I had been good. I told him what I wanted, and he said to just sit there and look down when we ordered. I was scared, so I did it. I thought about telling the lady at the counter what was wrong, but, even if she believed me, Joseph would get rid of me before the police could figure out where I was."

Sound logic. "What happened then?"

"We go the food and I ate it in the car. Then we went home and he let me play X-box for a long time."

_Response-reward, response-reward. That man trained Finn like a dog. _

"After that, he started taking me out more and more, almost every day. He even let me get out at a gas station a few times. I thought about telling asking the employee there for help, but when I tried, I couldn't make my voice work. I just kept hearing him telling me that he would kill me, and kill you, too if I did anything."

"W-what changed?" Maybe it wouldn't be Finn who had the nervous breakdown, maybe it would end up being me.

"I'm not exactly sure what the day was, because all of the days were kind of the same, but someone actually came to the door and started knocking. We were watching a movie, and it scared the crap out of all of us. Joseph grabbed my arm and told Lily to stall them. Then he leaned over and whispered that it was a few friends of his who knew about me, and that they wanted to share me. He actually asked me if I was ok with that, or if he needed to get the taser back out. So I told him sure, I wanted to meet his friends. He put the handcuffs back on me, and told me that he would come back and get me in a minute."

For as dumb as he could sometimes be, I had to admit that Finn had played his captors with rare skill. He hadn't been totally destroyed by anything they had done to him, and he had managed to even keep on their good sides by playing along. I doubted I could have done as well.

"That was stupid, too. I mean, just going along with him. Maybe the stupidest thing I had done since not running away when he tried to take me in the first place. You know why?" He didn't even wait for me to answer, just plowed ahead. "Because it wasn't his friends, it was the police. There was something about his car, and they were asking questions about me."

So the man who recognized Finn from the gas station had saved his life after all. "Could you see the police from where you were?"

"No. I didn't know who it was at the door, so I just kept sitting there and waiting to be part of the gang bang that he had promised." Finn noticed my flinch and reached out to pat my hand. "It's ok, it didn't happen."

No, the promised gangbang hadn't happened. But he had been raped, and abused by more the one person, and probably multiple times. But if Finn could be tough, so could I. "I'm fine, Finn, you keep going."

"Anyway, Joseph had closed the door on me, but I could still hear it when he and Lily started fighting. He was screaming that it was the cops at the door and she had done something to bring them here. She was screaming back that he was the one who insisted on taking me out of the house, and if he had just left me at home, none of this would have happened. He hit her then, I heard it. And when they finally came and opened the door on me, her face was all swollen here." He reached out and traced my cheekbone.

"I was scared that they would be angry with me, too, even though it wasn't my fault, so I pretended to be asleep. But, really, I didn't have my eyes closed all the way, so I was kind of watching them. They both just stood there in the doorway and looked at me for a long time. Finally Joseph said really soft 'you know we can't keep him now. It's too risky.' I was hoping that Lily would stick up for me, or at least tell him that they could just leave me somewhere, but she didn't. She just sighed and said 'I thought it might work out this time.'

"Then she said 'should we do it tonight?', and he said no, because I would get suspicious and might fight back, and anyway, he was afraid that the police were still hanging around. He said we would do it tomorrow evening. Then they just walked off. They were talking about killing me, and it was just like they were making plans to go to a movie."

"You must have been scared." It was an appallingly stupid thing to say, but I couldn't think of anything else. I don't think it really mattered what I said to Finn, anyway, just that I said something to indicate I was still listening.

"Yeah. They hadn't closed the door, so I thought if I could get out of the handcuffs, I could break a window and run for it. That's why my wrists were all bruised up like they were. But I couldn't break them. All I did was make myself tired. When Joseph came to let me out the next morning, he actually smiled at me and said that he had decided that he wasn't going to share me with his friends after all, that he was going to keep me for himself, and wasn't I lucky? Then he wanted me to show him how grateful I was, and I wanted to bite his damn dick off, but I guess I was still hoping that I would have a chance to run, so I didn't."

He took a deep breath before continuing. "He kept me right at his side the entire day, making me do whatever he wanted. Then, once it started getting dark, he said to put my clothes back on, because all three of us were going to go on a camping trip in the desert. I think he knew that I was suspicious, because he kept the handcuffs on me, even when we were in the car, and he didn't usually do that. But when we got to where he wanted, you know what we saw?"

"What?" It was so much easier to pretend that Finn was just telling me a story that he was making up as he went along, rather then describing how he had looked death in the face twice and walked off.

"There was a boy scout troop camping there. It's so flat in the desert that they would have been able to see us for miles, and hear a gunshot if they tried that. So Joseph turned the car around and parked it in a restaurant parking lot. He was really mad and he kept looking at both of us and asking what we should do now, because the police were going to come back, and I had to be gone by then. Finally Lily looked at me and said, 'just take him home, Joseph. He won't tell anyone what happened, will you Jeremy? You're a good boy.'" I was nodding and I told him that I wouldn't tell anyone what had happened. Joseph didn't want to, but Lily kept saying that they were out of time, and they had come so close to having a disaster last time that it might be better to just let me go. Then Joseph looked at me and said 'what do you think, Jeremy? Would you like to go home?' I said yes, and he said that I would have to do something extra special for him first, and I said I would do whatever it was." He paused. "I don't want to talk about that any more. Anyway, he decided that he would take me home."

"But he didn't want to just leave. He used to watch CSI with me all the time, and he didn't want anything that could trace back to him. So he stopped at a Wal-Mart and bought me new clothes, even underwear, and put them in the car. Then, on the way, we stopped at one of those truck stop places, and he told me I had to take a shower and get really, really clean, so there wouldn't be any evidence on my body. Then he had me put on the brand new clothes and throw away the ones I had been wearing."

That explained why the police hadn't found any real evidence on Finn's clothing, nor semen or other evidence during the rape examination. I had been right, it had happened, but his captor had been clever enough to figure it out how to fool with the evidence.

"When we started getting close to Lima, Joseph said that I had to lay down in the seat, so no one would be able to see me. It hurt to lay like that, because I'm so tall and he wanted me to lay there forever, but it was worth it. He wanted me to give him directions to your house, but I got confused, because, you know, I have trouble with my lefts and rights, but we finally found it. He pulled up, and he sat down next to me and said 'Jeremy, you're getting an opportunity that I don't give other people. If you open that big trap of yours and say even one word, I will kill your father, and I'll rape and torture your mother to death. And that pretty little brother of yours? I'll take him to be your replacement, and I'll make damn sure he suffers more then you ever did. Then I'll leave you alive, so you can live with that for the rest of your life, knowing that it's all your fault. Now, are you going to say anything about Lily and I?' Of course, I said no, so he let me get out of the car. He said to count to 10,000, then knock on the door, so he and Lily would have plenty of time to get back on the highway. I did, but when I knocked on the door, no one answered."

Guilt made me feel like vomiting. I had been sleeping at Mercedes' house, warm and safe while Finn sat alone on our porch. "I'm sorry."

"S'ok. I mean, it wasn't like you knew what was going on. I could have gone over to a neighbor, I guess, but I didn't know any of your neighbors, and I didn't know who would be nice. I thought that you guys would come home really soon, so I just sat there. Then it got dark, and I was scared to move. I fell asleep, and, when I woke up, I heard a car pulling up. I thought that maybe Joseph and Lily were coming back, but then it was you!" His voice rose with delight. "And I wanted to tell you that I was glad you were there, and that I was sorry for being such a douche hound before, but every time I tried to open my mouth, I kept hearing him say that I shouldn't say anything, and I got nervous. But it didn't matter, because you knew what to do." Finn smiled at me, and I forced my face into something that hopefully looked happy and not horrified. "Then, you know the rest."

"I do." I shifted over so I could hug him so tightly that he grunted in surprise. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me all this. Do you think you can tell Dad and Carole tomorrow?"

He sighed. "I don't know."

"Well, do you think you can talk for them, even if you don't tell them everything? You have no idea how happy it would make your mother."

"Yes. I already know what I'm going to say to Mom. I wanted to talk to her before, but I couldn't make myself do it." He smiled. "But then I was able to talk to you, so I can talk to her, too, now."

I smiled at him. "I live to please. Do you need anything else? Something to drink? A snack?"

"No." He yawned hugely. "I'm ready for bed." 

A quick glance at the clock revealed that it was almost 6 in the morning. "You can stay here with me if you want, or go back to your bed. But I'm ready for bed, too."

"Can I stay with you? It's ok?" He sounded so hopeful that, even if I hadn't secretly wanted him to sleep with me, I would have had trouble telling him no.

"Sure. Get your own pillow, though."

It was just a few steps across the room when you have legs like Finn does, and he was back in seconds. He snuggled up on the bed, his back pressed against mine. I reached backwards in the dark and touched his hip. "Finn?"

He made a little grunting noise. "How come you did decide to talk to me tonight? Not that I don't want you to, but you've been home for a while. Why now?"

Even in the dark, I could see his shrug. "Dude, you asked me to. I knew that Joseph was in jail, and you said you would listen."

In his mind, it really was that simple. Finn stretched out lazily and was asleep in what felt like a space of a few breaths. My worries and horror about what Finn had revealed to me should have been enough to keep me awake, but a warm body snuggled against mine was surprisingly relaxing. I never crawled into bed with my father, even when I had been little, so I was unused to the sensation of sharing with anyone. With surprising ease, I fell into a deep sleep myself.


	18. Chapter 18

_**Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.**_

_**Psalm 30:5 King James Bible**_

By the time I woke up the next morning, I could almost believe that last night had been a dream. A wonderful, special dream, but a dream nonetheless. But Finn's body was still warm and curled around mine, his breathing slow and deep. If he was really here, then it had actually happened. Even though I knew it was wrong, I couldn't help but lean over and kiss him on the cheek. He didn't even stir. It was well past 9, but we had only gotten a few hours of sleep, so I snuggled back against him and went back to sleep.

The second time I woke, Carole was standing at the bottom of the stairs. I couldn't make myself do anything, and the longer she stared, the redder I could feel my face turning. "Hi, Carole."

"Hi, Kurt." Her voice was soft and Finn remained undisturbed. She gestured at him. "Did he have a bad night?"

That was a mild way to put it. "Kind of."

"Poor Finn. Is there anything I can do?" She looked like she wanted to come closer, but she held back. Maybe she was worried about waking him up.

"No, we're fine. We were up almost all night, so I think just a few hours of extra sleep will do it. Do you work today?" Usually I knew both her and Dad's work schedules by heart, but I was so tired I couldn't even think. 

She shook her head. "I asked for a few days off, so I could be here for the family. If you need me, I'll be doing some cleaning upstairs. Otherwise, I'll let the two of you sleep. I turned the phone off."

"Thank you, Carole." I wanted to blurt everything out, tell her that Finn could talk now, and that, yes, things had been horrendous for him, but that he was at least telling someone about them, and that was the first step towards being healed of them.

But I couldn't do that. Finn had already told me he knew what he wanted to say to her, and I didn't want to spoil it for him. Plus, the poor boy needed some sleep. Carole came over and smoothed Finn's hair, then lightly stroked mine. Had it been anyone else messing with my hair, they would have died a horrible death. When she did it, though, I found myself purring like an oversized cat and pressing into her hand. She smiled and leaned down to kiss my cheek. Then she was gone and I cuddled closer to Finn, enjoying his body heat in the cool basement. He whined in his sleep and wrapped one arm around me.

I swear that my heart stopped beating. For two years I had fantasized about being in Finn Hudson's arms, about having him spooned up against me just like he was right now. Funny how dreams never turn out exactly how you think they will.

With our new positions, it was easy to feel Finn's breath fanning out across the back of my neck and the size of his body compared to mine. His fingers rested against my chest, curled slightly, though they weren't actually reaching for anything. I wondered what he was dreaming about, and if his dreams were any better then usual for the emotional purging that had just gone on. Hard to say with Finn, since he tended to sleep deeply and quietly, especially since he had started on his medication.

I wondered how much it actually helped him, but that was one of the things I couldn't just come out and ask. He had nodded when I asked him if the pills made him feel better, but had stalled out when it came to explaining how. He was a good signer, but he just didn't have the words to explain the subtle feelings.

_It's not the signs, it's probably the vocabulary. But you don't have to worry about that any more, do you? Finn talks, or have you forgotten that already? _

Funny enough, I almost had. Finn had been first missing and then mute for so long that it felt more normal then not to not hear his voice. But now he could talk, and things, or at least communication, would be easier. Pleased that I had settled the matter in my own mind, I let myself fall back asleep.

When I woke the next time, it was because Finn was gone and my side was freezing. How I could feel Finn's absence so keenly, when it was at least 80 degrees out already and I had never slept with him before, but I did. It was like part of my own body was missing.

_Get used to it. Finn slept here last night because he was tired, and scared, and wanted someone to be close to someone. He's not yours, he never has been._

Yet. Finn wasn't mine yet, but that didn't mean that that he would never be mine. It just meant that he wasn't mine right now.

_Whatever, stalker boy._

Hey! I wasn't doing anything even vaguely inappropriate to Finn. I hadn't forced him to tell me what had happened, I had given him the choice of where he slept, and I had even offered get his mother for him instead.

_Exactly. You're doing everything right, right now, and Finn's responding to that. Don't push it. Just let Finn choose what to do, and accept his choices_.

Yeah, yeah, I got it. Just keep doing what I was doing and eventually, I would either have a boyfriend or a new brother who could hopefully help me get a boyfriend. I wasn't exactly seeing downside here. "Finn?"

There was no response, which could have meant that he had gone upstairs and left me to sleep, or that he had gone mute again and was in the bathroom. A quick peek that that direction confirmed that the bathroom was empty, so I figured he must have gone upstairs.

Sure enough, he was curled up on the couch, watching a hockey game. I didn't even know we got those on our satellite plan. When he saw me, he leapt up and put his arms around me, which was his standard greeting these days. "Hi." It was a hoarse whisper, so raspy that I could barely understand it. Talking so much last night had absolutely wrecked his voice after him being silent for so long.

So last night hadn't been a dream, after all. I smiled at him. "Hi. Did you eat?"

His head shook. "Did you say something to your mother?"

Another shake and I wondered if I should push it, or just let him move at his own pace. "Since it's a special morning, how about I make crepes for us?"

His eyes narrowed and he signed 'what?' at me. So apparently he wasn't totally back to talking yet.

_My guess would be that his throat hurts, Kurt. You heard how he sounded a minute ago. _

I hadn't considered that. "Crepes are like little thin pancakes, but very sweet. You can roll them up and put a little cream or jelly in them. It's almost like having dessert for breakfast."

That was all he needed to hear before he was racing for the kitchen. "Dad? Carole? I'm making breakfast!"

Finn's head peeped back around the corner. "Not home."

"Where are they?" Carole hadn't mentioned anything about leaving.

"Police." His head vanished again, and he returned with a note that had obviously been stolen off the fridge.

**Finn and Kurt-**

**We're at the police station getting a few things sorted out, should be done back by 1. Please don't leave the house without calling. **

**Love, Mom and Dad**

**XOXOXO**

Finn traced his fingers over the second to last line, the one that had caught my attention as well. Mom and Dad, like we were a real family, not one just cobbled together from a bunch of broken pieces. I guess it would have looked weird to sign as But and Carole, and since it was to both of us, Mom and Dad did make the most sense, but…maybe I was over thinking it.

"Is it ok?" Finn no doubt remembered how I had reacted the last time my father had tried to make a claim on him.

No, but I sensed how badly he needed it to be ok. "Yeah." I pointed to the word 'mom'. "Are you ok?"

"I can share." He wasn't happy about it, I could tell, but he would go along with it. Why was anyone's guess.

_Really? You don't think that he looks at you and sees that same desperate longing for a missing parent that you see when you look at him? To quote your father, Kurt, Finn's dumb but not stupid._

I broke the tension by smiling and slipping away. "So, crepes?" 

Finn all but swooned. "Can I help?"

"Not right now, but later. Does your throat hurt?" His voice was cracking and he tried to clear it again.

"Yeah."

"There's some fruit pops in the back of the freezer, why don't you grab one. It should feel good on your throat."

His eyes narrowed. "I ate them all."

"No, you didn't. You ate all the Popsicles, which are nothing but sugar and artificial dye, but I have fruit pops in the back, behind the frozen beans. They're 100% fruit, so they're good for you."

Finn didn't seem convinced, but he rummaged around until he found my stash of expensive, organic, snacks. He unwrapped a strawberry one and gave it a tentative lick. "Hm." He sucked enthusiastically, watching me crack eggs and whisk the batter.

I was whisking a lot harder then necessary, mostly to cover up the sounds that Finn was making with that fruit pop. Did he have to make it sound so downright _pornographic_?

_You need to get laid. All Finn is doing is eating a Popsicle the same way anyone else would and-oh, God. Never mind, it's pornographic. And it's hot. _

What we were both seeing was Finn with the treat all the way down his throat. I'm sure that, in the strange landscape that was Finn Hudson's brain, there was a logical reason for this. I could even follow his train of thought. Hmm…my throat hurts. Ice will make the pain go away. If I put the ice directly on the pain, it will go away faster. Hence (not that Finn would use the word hence, but it seemed appropriate here), he would shove the fruit pop down his throat.

"C-could you get the butter, please?" My voice trembled, and I forced it to be steady. It was already out of the fridge and sitting on the table, but after Finn's little display, I didn't think that turning around right now was the best idea.

Luckily, Finn's always eager to help out, so he grabbed it for me. "Ok, now the powdered sugar. No, Finn, that's _not_ powdered sugar, it's regular."

His head cocked. "You can't powder it?" 

Why did I find that stupidity of his so damn cute? "No. Powdered sugar is in the cabinet under the microwave and it looks like cornstarch."

From the blank look on his face, Finn had no idea what cornstarch looked like either. "Like white chocolate milk mix." 

"Oh. Why didn't you just say that in the first place?" He found it in seconds and held it out.

"No, just put it on the counter. We're going to sprinkle it on top of the crepes after they're done. Now see what type of fruit we have in the fridge." I was pretty sure that there were some berries in a bowl.

He was able to come up with not only the berries, but a few apples, the cream (why was it that I could mention the fact that you can put cream in crepes once and he remembered it perfectly, but the thousandth repetition of 'please clean up the bathroom floor after you shower' went unheeded?) and a bottle of chocolate syrup.

I made enough for both of us, then showed Finn how to put the cream and fruit in the middle and wrap the crepe up. He was surprisingly deft at it, tucking the ends in neatly.

He hadn't even taken a bite when the front door banged open. "Kurt? Finn? Are you boys awake?" Carole's voice rang out, sounding way too cheerful for where she had just been.

"We are! We're having crepes for brunch, but you guys can come share! I promise Finn hasn't touched all of them." My sometime brother (and most of the time crush) had a bad habit of poking through dinner to find the best piece/slice/bite/whatever. It was disgusting, but he still did it whenever my back was turned. Granted, he was making more of an effort to at least use his fork to poke through it, but _still_.

I saw Finn's mouth open when they entered the room, but absolutely nothing came out. He looked puzzled, staring down, then trying again. Still nothing. Whatever mental block had kept him from speaking in the first place must still have been somewhat in effect. His eyes widened in panic, his breathing going fast. I stroked his back a few times, knowing that neither one of our parents could see us. They were both too busy oohing and ahhing over breakfast.

"I thought brunch was in between breakfast and lunch. It's almost 1:30." I noticed that it not actually being brunch time didn't stop Dad from grabbing two crepes and the bottle of chocolate syrup.

"Finn and I got a late start on the day, so it's the correct time for us, even if it isn't correct by the clock. Isn't that right Finn?" I grabbed another crepe as I spoke, because I was starving and my offer of food had been more out of politeness rather then actually hoping they would take any.

"Mom." Once none of us were looking at him, Finn seemed to have found his courage.

Absolute silence reigned, with both parents staring in shock. Finn's eyelids fluttered rapidly, but he took another deep breath. "Mom." This time it came out clearly, and there was no mistaking what he had said.

Carole's hand flew to her mouth, and I could tell that it took everything she had to charge in and smother him in kisses. She remembered the therapist's words as well as I had. _Don't make a big deal out of this and don't upset Finn. If you make a huge deal, you might scare him back into silence._

Honestly, if what he had revealed to me last night hadn't scared him into silence, I was pretty sure that nothing would. Finn smiled happily at all of us, then took a bite of his crepe. We all waited while he chewed, hanging on his every motion. He wiped his mouth (after much training, Finn had finally been taught the proper use of a napkin) and looked back up. "I love you."

"Oh, baby, I love you, too." She held out her arms and he went to her immediately, the half eaten crepe still in one hand. Let it never be said that anything, not even a moment so heartwarming that we could be on the Hallmark channel, got in between Finn and his breakfast.

I wondered if 'I love you' had been what he had been planning to say, or if he had choked at the last minute. He had specifically told me that he knew what he wanted to say, which led me to believe that it had been a little more elaborate. After all, how much thinking did those three words require?

_ What else could he possibly want or need to say? Is there any phrase in this world more important?_

Sometimes that voice had a point. Now if only he would say the words to me, and mean them the way I wanted him too.

_He said it just yesterday. _You_ were the one who didn't bother to figure out how he meant it. He probably would have explained if you didn't freak out on him. _

I guessed that was true. But it was just too hard to believe that Finn would ever be attracted to me.

_Why not? You're cute, you're funny, and you've been there for him when no one else was. He's not stupid, he knows who loves him and who's only pretending to._

Who was only pretending to love Finn? I loved him, his mother thought the sun rose and set on him, and even Dad loved him deeply, despite Finn not liking him at all. But it was really the first part of what that voice said that hammered it home for me. I had been there when no one else had. Soon Rach would be back from France, and he would see her again and remember that there were people in the world besides his family, and he would leave me behind again. Better to just accept that now and not get my hopes up.

_He wasn't with Rachel when that man took him. She was with Jesse, and as far as Finn knows, she's still with Jesse. Doesn't it strike you the slightest bit odd that Finn hasn't once asked about Rachel? He's let her go. _

Actually, it did strike me as a bit odd. At one point or another, Finn had asked about most of the Glee club. Matt had come over one day and played basketball with him (boy, that was a fun day- I don't think either one of them made a sound other then Matt greeting Finn and telling him goodbye at the end of the day), Tina had come by at least twice a week to play games and hang out with him. I was never quite sure what went on during those sessions, because she always told me to either go hang out with Mercedes or locked the door on me, claiming she and Finn needed privacy. I knew for a fact that nothing sexual was happening between them, since she was still with Artie, but neither one of them would tell me what actually _was_ happening. It drove me batty to be out of the loop like that.

Artie came over one day, and he and Finn sat together in the yard, since there was no way for Artie to be able to get around in our house. Finn was willing to lift him up the steps, but our doorways were narrow and the carpet thick, so they had sat outside instead. Artie talked, and Finn listened, his head cocked to the side. I had been busy that day, but the few times I had checked in, Artie had been complaining about Tina, and afraid that he was losing her. Finn nodded sympathetically and eventually wrote a rather long (for Finn) note telling him exactly what to do. Honestly, I was a little scared of what might be in that note, considering Finn's track record with relationships, but it was clearly a secret.

Even Santana had come by, despite her bitch queen image. She only stayed long enough to whisper something in Finn's ear that caused him to blush a bright shade of Va-Va-Vixen red, the same shade I wanted to have for our living room furniture. Dad had nixed that idea really quick, though, and we were stuck with boring old brown. The man had no flair for the dramatic, I swear.

Normally I would have just assumed that she was torturing him, but then I remembered what he had said to me last night. He had had sex with Santana at some point. God, that was gross.

_No, that's good. At least he has one good sexual experience to compare to all the bad ones. That way he knows that it doesn't have to be forceful, scary and painful. That disgusting romp with Santana might be Finn's saving grace._

Knowing Santana, I wouldn't be sure that Finn had had such a good sexual experience. More likely, he had been manipulated into it, and summarily dumped afterwards. But still, she hadn't held a weapon on him and forced him to do things that even I found frightening. And, at the end of the day, Finn was a teenage boy and an incredibly hot girl had been offering herself to him, no strings attached. That had probably gone a long way towards making him willing.

But I noticed that, whatever she had said, Finn wanted no part in it. He just smiled weakly and shook his head, not budging, even when she reached up for a hug and pulled him down until his face was smashed into her breasts. He seemed to like it, but he still refused to go anywhere with her.

By mutual agreement, Santana had left Britney at home. It wasn't that the blond didn't adore Finn, just like everyone else, but the girl couldn't be trusted not to say the wrong thing. At the time, not only was Finn not talking, but he hadn't even acknowledged that Puck was gone, and the risk of Brit unintentionally upsetting him had seemed too great.

Santana had, however, brought a little box from Brit, a welcome home gift. We both watched him undo the Christmas paper (because it was the happiest holiday, and Brit wanted Finn to be happy- duh), and pull out a note and a small metal object. I peeked over at what was cradled in his hand. A compass. Brit had given Finn a compass. He closed his fingers around it and picked up the note. It was pink, and had a cat on it and we could all read the few words.

Finn-

This is so you never get lost again.

Love, Brit

It was such a Britney gesture, but Finn had actually smiled for the first time in days. He had carried the compass around constantly, and even now took it whenever he went outside. It was a something that, at least in Finn's mind, was keeping him safe from harm. I had to remember that Finn and Brit were both rather literal creatures, and having something tangible to remind him that he was alright meant a lot to him.

Finn had accepted everyone coming with equal joy, but the voice was right, he had never once asked for Rachel. He hadn't asked if she was still with Jessie, or when she was coming back, of even if she knew that he was back. The answers to those questions were no, in a few days, and no again. I had left the task of telling her to Santana, because I didn't want to be caught in the middle of Ms. Berry's anger when she found out that we were keeping Finn from her. If he had asked for her, I would have bitten the bullet and at least tried to call, but he hadn't. As far as Finn was concerned, Rachel Berry no longer existed.

Until she got back, of course. Then he would take one look at her hideous animal sweater and too high socks and fall madly back in love with her. Then I would just be the creepy gay kid who he shared a room with, and we would go back to being kind of friends, but mostly two guys who pretended not to see each other in the hallways.

Unexpected tears pricked at my eyes. I thought that Finn and I had become close, especially since he had talked to me before anyone else, but I was never going to compare to one Rachel Berry, and it was pointless for me to try.

_Paging Kurt Hummel, your pity party is waiting at the front. Are you _really_ pissed off at Finn for something that hasn't even happened yet? Now listen up. You are many things, Kurt, but a coward isn't one of them. Finn tells you he loves you, and now you're looking for any excuse to get rid of him because you're too afraid of getting hurt. Finn isn't going to dump you for Rachel, no matter what you think._

Self preservation wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Besides, how did that voice know what Finn would or wouldn't do? There was no such thing as being able to see the future, and even if there was, I didn't have the talent. If I had, I would have avoided dozens of dumpster dives over the years.

_I know because I know, period. And you should listen to me. Think of me as your much smarter alter ego. Now, who was the one who told you that Finn would be back? Who told you that he would come to you if you were gentle and patient? Who told you that Finn had a little crush in the first place? That's right, me._

There wasn't much I could say to that, because the voice was right. But I couldn't take the chance. I just couldn't. I would rather have Finn in my life as just a brother, then risk spoiling the entire family that Dad and Carole were trying to hard to build. If the voice was wrong, and Finn wasn't interested in me that way, then I was going to completely terrify him. He had already been sexually abused by someone that he should have been able to trust, by virtue of the fact that the man was an adult if nothing else, and I wouldn't let that happen again.

_I didn't say grope him, I just said that you should be open to whatever happens. He knows what to do; you just need to get caught up._

A hand touched my shoulder, gently pulling me backwards. Dad leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Kurt, you don't seem very surprised about this. How long has Finn been talking to you?"

To an objective observer, my father might appear to be nothing but a dumb grease monkey. Not that I ever thought that, of course, but plenty of people did. But, like Finn, he can be amazingly observant when you least expected it. I picked my chin up so I could whisper back to him, even though I was pretty sure that neither Finn nor Carole would notice if I dropped an atomic bomb in the kitchen. "Since last night. He told me everything."

"He does remember, then. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not." Dad sounded lost in thought.

Finn was mumbling to Carole, but nothing sounded like actual words, just broken noises. But they were noises, and he seemed to be making an effort to communicate, which was more then we had gotten before.

Anyway, Carole seemed to understand him perfectly. I noticed that she wasn't asking him any of the questions that she must have wanted to, just like I hadn't asked last night. There would be too many people demanding answers, probably starting today. They had already made an arrest in his case, which meant they had limited time to charge the man and get him to trial. Finn was going to have to tell this story over and over, whether he was ready or not. Carole was giving him the only kindness she could, by giving him a last few hours to himself.

Finally she drew back, and Finn took another few nibbles of his now cold crepe. Her eyes met mine, and she smiled, mouthing the words 'thank you' at me. I smiled back, but I couldn't help but worry that I was about to become superfluous, now that she had Finn back and talking.

_You won't._

I had to trust that voice, no matter how hard it was. Carole loved me, she had to love me.

_She does._

I might have gotten caught up in arguing with myself, but Dad's hand tightened on my shoulder. "Kurt, why don't we go in the other room for a little bit." He was trying to turn me, but, for once, I wasn't going to listen.

"No." My voice came out stronger then I had expected it would.

"No?" Dad sounded shocked, since I so seldom talked back to him.

Now I had everyone's attention, which was really the last thing I wanted. But I squared my shoulders and stared back at Dad. "No."

"We're a family, and families stick together." Finn had piped up when I never thought he would. "No more me and Mom and Kurt and Burt. All of us, together." He nodded at his own words, meeting Dad's eyes and staring deeply. "Right?"

Speech, or maybe just the fact that Carole was right there with her arms around him, had made Finn brave enough to directly acknowledge Dad. It was strange, though I guessed not any stranger then anything else that had happened over the last few days. Dad nodded. "You're right, Finn. We're a family, and we stick together. Now, how about you share those crepes with your new family?"

"Ok." Finn held out the plate to Dad, a strange, quirky smile dancing at the corners of his mouth. I noticed that he artfully turned the plate so there was no way that Dad could actually touch him, but he was making progress. Slowly but surely, that was Finn's way.

By a mutual but unspoken agreement, we all put off talking to the police for as long as possible. Finn picked out a movie (Lilo and Stitch, naturally. I wanted to believe that he was telling us something about family, especially considering what we had just talked about, but knowing Finn, he was probably more interested in the fart jokes.) and we all settled in to watch. Dad and Carole sat on the couch, and Finn and I stayed in front of it. Finn was leaning against Carole's legs, allowing her to reach down and touch him.

I waited an appropriate amount of time before excusing myself to the bathroom. As soon as I latched the door, I had my phone out and was dialing Mercedes. She picked up on the third ring. "This better be good, Kurt, I'm getting ready to go out the door."

"It is." I took a deep breath and just blurted it out. "Finn's talking."

She drew in a breath so quickly that it whistled. "You're kidding. Since when?"

"Since last night. They made an arrest, you know." I don't know why I expected that she might.

"I know. Baby, I've left you a dozen messages about it." She sounded exasperated with me.

"Sorry, my phones been- wait, how did you know?" What had I missed?

I could almost hear her eyes rolling. "Kurt, it's been all over the news all day. I'm surprised that your phone hasn't been ringing off the hook."

Actually, the phone hadn't rang all day. Something nagged at the back of my mind, and I suddenly remembered Carole saying she had taken it off the hook this morning. No wonder, she must have known that the news was out. Lima's a tiny town, and it had been a few years since we had a murder at all, much less the sensational murder/kidnapping of a pair of teenagers. "Oh." My voice was weak and wavery.

"But he's talking, right? That's great! How did it happen?" She was clearly trying to perk me back up.

"He climbed in bed with me last night and just did it. There's never been anything wrong with his voice, you know, it's all in his head." I couldn't tell her everything, because I had too much respect for Finn to do that, but I had to tell someone.

"Back up. Tell me again how Finn Hudson got in your bed. And tell me slowly, because I have no love life so I have to enjoy yours."

As bad as I felt, I had to laugh a little at that comment. It came out choked and pitiful sounding, but it was a laugh all the same. "I don't either. He woke me up at some ungodly hour, then just started talking. He told me everything." 

"It's bad, isn't it?" Mercedes is no fool, and she knew that Finn hadn't been off picking up girls and sun tanning in New Mexico.

"Really, really bad. This morning it all felt like some horrible dream, but he was still there, and he's talking for Carole and Dad today. I think he's going to be alright." Actually, it was more like I hoped he would be alright, but I was trying to be more positive these days.

"Of course he is. White Boy's as stubborn as a mule. He's managed to get himself home from New Mexico unharmed, even if it took him a while. How did he do that, by they way?"

I guessed that it was alright to tell her that. "The guy dropped him off."

"Just like that?" Her voice was dripping with disbelief.

"Just like that." After of course, multiple rapes and an aborted murder plot, but those things fell into the category of things I wasn't about to tell her.

She was quiet for a minute, and I wondered if the tears in my voice had betrayed me, even though I wasn't about to let them fall. "He can do this, Kurt, I promise."

Everyone had such faith in Finn, always. Finn could join Glee and put up with the teasing. Finn can get us to Sectionals and help us win. Finn can protect everyone and never need any protection for himself. Finn can have a nervous breakdown raising a baby that isn't even his, its fine, he's tough. Finn can put up with a little harmless flirting. Finn could deal with suddenly moving into with two people he barely knew with absolutely no warning. Finn could get over Pucks murder. The sad part was, Finn _could _do all those things, but at what cost to his emotional health? There was going to be a point where Finn can turned into Finn can't, and I wasn't sure I wanted to be around when that happened.

A volley of knocks sounded on the door. "Kurt, what are you doing in there?" Finn rattled the knob.

I pulled the phone down to my shoulder. "Finn Hudson, I am in the bathroom! What do you think I'm doing in here?"

"Talking on the phone. I could here you from out here. Now come on, you're going to miss the best part!"

He sounded so enthusiastic that I had to chuckle a little to myself. Then, the rest of what he had said sunk in. "Were you listening outside the door? What if I had actually been using the toilet?" They might be natural functions, but I refused to even acknowledge that I did such things; much less that someone might overhear them.

"It's been 20 minutes. I figured you were either on the phone or you got, you know, distracted putting on make-up or something. So I listened in. Hi Mercedes!" His voice rose a little.

I didn't want to give him the pleasure of knowing that he was right, so I whispered into the phone. "I have to go, Finn says hi. I'll call you tonight."

She giggled and hung up. I ran some water, like I was actually washing my hands, and opened the door. Finn was leaning against the opposite wall, grinning at me, and he looked so normal that I had to clutch my arms around my own body to keep from just grabbing him and smothering him in kisses. He grinned. "Did Mercedes say hi back?"

"No, because I wasn't talking to Mercedes." I don't know why I bothered lying to him. Finn's like a truth seeking missile sometimes.

He grinned. "So you _were_ putting on make-up? What type?"

Huh, maybe I preferred him not talking after all. "What would make you think that I wear make-up at all?" I regretted it the minute I asked. The first rule of getting by in Lima, Ohio without getting my face punched in was to never ask a question without knowing what the answer was.

"Well, sometimes you have freckles here-"He traced a finger across my nose and cheekbones and it was all I could do not shiver. "-and sometimes you don't. So either your freckles are fake, or you cover them up. But I think they're real."

Busted. "Please don't tell my father." Dad had been amazingly tolerant of everything, but knowing his son was wearing cosmetics, even concealer, might push him right over the edge.

Another smile. "Don't worry, I can keep a secret."

That was for sure. My breath caught in my throat as Finn held out a hand. I stretched my own out tentatively; ready to pull back the second he indicated I had misinterpreted his offer. His hand enclosed mine completely, his grip just tight enough to make me feel secure, but loose enough that I could pull back. He led me back downstairs, as gentle as a dream.

Just before we reentered the living room, he dropped my hand and gave me a tentative smile. "Just so you know, I really like your freckles. You shouldn't cover them up."

With that, he dropped my hand and went bounding into the living room, happily tossing himself down in his previous spot. "Found him!"

Carole sighed. "Finn, I told you to leave your brother alone. He might have had things to do, you know."

Finn gave her a sassy look. "Maybe not. Maybe he was just waiting for one of us to come find him." 

_Just like Finn wanted someone to come find him all the months he was away. Is it such a surprise that he wants all of you to be around now? He's trying to make sure that you're all safe.  
_

I didn't think so. Finn didn't seem worried, or stressed, or even that concerned. Instead he was showing childlike delight at the prospect; as if he and I had been doing nothing more then playing a game of hide and seek. Finn's mind is a mysterious place, and I couldn't even begin to determine what was going on inside of it.

_Which means you can't know what his true feelings for you are, unless you ask. Finn's many things, not all of them good, but he's not a liar. Ask, you big doofus, or forever hold your peace_.

That was true, but I just didn't have the courage to come out with it like that. Instead I sat next to Finn, close enough to feel his warmth, and smell the soap from the shower he had just recently taken.

The rest of the day passed in a strange sort of blur. Several reporters came to the door, but, oddly, that petered out after Dad greeted the second set with the business end of his shotgun. Finn didn't say anything about that, but I could see the admiration in his eyes. Dad's protectiveness, so freely given, might be what finally built the bridge between him and Finn.

It was nearly dinnertime before Carole gently broached the subject of Finn talking to the police. He didn't look particularly happy about it, but he nodded. She didn't give him any chance to back out. "Tomorrow?"

Another nod, though he was biting his lip nervously. Carole didn't seem sure, so Finn forced a smile. "I can do it. I promise, Mom, I can do it."

We all left it at that, not because we believed him, but because there was nothing for us to say. Finn had to tell the story; there was no other way that it could happen. We knew it and so did he.

Dinner was a subdued affair, though Carole tried to perk it up by making brownies for dessert. She and Dad held an unspoken conversation while they thought that Finn and I were distracted by dessert, and she took Finn upstairs afterwards, using some pretense that none of us even pretended to believe. She just wanted the truth out of him, before she had to hear the horrible details in front of the entire Lima police department.

It was to Dad's credit that he didn't try and pump me for answers, even though he was now the only family member that was out of the loop. He just sat down in front of the game and left me to clear the table. I did so, washing the dishes and wiping down the counters until everything was clean and perfect.

Finn and Carole stayed upstairs for so long that I thought he might end up sleeping up there and relegating Dad to his bed tonight. But, just as I was getting into bed, there was a soft noise on the steps, and there was Finn, coming down. I smiled at him. "Are you spending the night down here?"

"Yeah. I mean, my beds down here." He was grumpy sounding, and, now that he had moved into the light, I could see that his face was blotched and tearstained. He went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth, changing automatically into his pajamas. "Goodnight, Kurt."

"Goodnight. Do you want the light out?" I really wanted to finish this chapter, but if Finn wanted to sleep, I would do it tomorrow.

"No, it's fine." He curled up on his side, his back to me, and went very still. I could tell that he wasn't asleep, but I also knew that he wouldn't appreciate me drawing attention to that fact, so I remained quiet. When I was done with my chapter, I turned out the light and closed my eyes, even though I was finding it harder and harder to fall asleep.

There was a soft scrabbling noise almost immediately, and I felt Finn poke me in the shoulder. "Kurt." It was a barely there whisper eerily reminiscent of his voice last night.

"What?" I tried to sound as encouraging as possible.

"Uh…can I sleep with you again, tonight? Please?" He sounded embarrassed, but hopeful.

There was a dozen reasons why that was a bad idea, starting with the fact that my bed was too small, and ending with my crush on him, but I had never been able to deny Finn anything, so I nodded and held up the covers. He had apparently been waiting for it, because he already had his pillow and his lion ready, and snuggled under the blanket, his body going limp almost immediately. "Thanks. You're really awesome."

"No problem." I was trying to ignore how natural this felt. Finn's body was warm against mine, and, even though I was trying my best not to touch and scare him, our legs were all tangled up, and I just knew I was going to wake up snuggling against him again.

_So what? He didn't mind last time, and he's not going to mind this time. You think too much. Just enjoy having Finn close, and imagine how easy this could all be if you would just let it. _

Finn fell asleep in the time it took me to have that mental debate, his body reflexively cuddling closer to me. I decided to take my mental voice's advice and just go for it. After all, what was the worst that could happen?


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: This Chapter is a bit early, as a Christmas present for CanAnyoneHearMe, who always leaves me such nice reviews, and who was hoping for it to be up before Christmas. And you thought I wouldn't actually do it ;)**

_**" Some people say the worst way to miss someone is when they are right next to you and know you can't have them, but it's worse when you thought you didn't want them anymore and then all of a sudden you realize you can't live without them."  
Unknown**_

The worst that could happen didn't happen that night. Finn was a quiet sleeper, and, other then one moment around two when his entire body stiffened up and jerked sharply, one hand knocking me in the shoulder and startling me badly, he barely moved all night long. I, on the other hand, slept miserably.

It wasn't Finn's fault. Actually, he was taking up less then half of the bed, one arm dangling to the floor. He didn't snore, he didn't touch me, didn't even sleep restlessly. He just laid there quietly, all night long. He didn't even get up at night like he used to.

No, the problem was me. I had spent the past six months telling myself that I didn't want Finn, I didn't need him, I didn't have even the slightest sexual thoughts about him. Finn was my brother, and, for most of that time, he wasn't even that. He was the son of my father's girlfriend, and he was missing. He had been reduced to an abstraction in my mind, since it was the only way I could cope.

Then Finn had come back, and all of the feelings came roaring back with him. But they were confused with guilt from driving him from the house and shame for feeling that way about someone who was probably going to be my brother and fear of what had happened to Finn, and what would happen in the future.

_I tried to tell you-_

And that was another thing! I was so fucking sick of that voice telling me everything I was doing wrong, which was everything I ever did! I just wanted to be able to make my own decisions, without input from a freaky little Jiminy Cricket that was hiding in my brain as opposed to sitting on my shoulder. Get with Finn, don't get with Finn, leave him alone, don't leave him alone, be a friend, give him some space, make a move, for God's sake do something! I was really tired of feeling like I had a split personality.

_Pissy, pissy. I'm not a different personality, sweetness, I'm you. Just better, because I don't fly off the handle like you do. Anyway, if you don't want my advice, fine. Good luck in figuring it out on your own._

I could figure it out on my own! I was great at figuring things out on my own. Like….well, I guessed I couldn't think of anything recent, but I had gotten on just fine without that voice before, thank you, and I could get by without it now. Right? Right.

I waited for a minute, but the voice had nothing to say. Finn grumbled a little and snuggled up against my back, his body loose and soft, but even that didn't provoke an inappropriate comment. Was that really all it took to silence that voice? Me telling it to shut up? Why hadn't I done this six months ago? And just what was I going to do about Finn? 

"Listen. I already told you how it is." The words were whisper soft, and for a minute I thought that the voice was back. But no, it was Finn, talking in his sleep. Still, it was eerie enough to raise the hair on the back of my neck.

I rolled over in surprise, but he was sound asleep. Even though it I knew that it was tempting fate, I reached out and stroked his back. "What was that, Finn?"

"I'm not building the snowman. You have to build the snowman, you fucking moron." He stretched once, then rolled over on his back.

Ok, not exactly what I was looking for, but kind of funny. I patted him again, noticing the furrow that had appeared between his eyes. I didn't want him to wake up. "Ok, Love, I'll build the snowman for you."

"Good. I love you." Then he was out again, his head lolling to the side.

That was the second time he had said that, so maybe it meant something? Of course, he _did_ think he was building a snowman, so maybe he couldn't exactly be trusted as a reliable source.

_Or maybe he can. Sleep talkers don't lie._

I knew it! Getting rid of that voice had been way too easy. And sleep talkers might not be able to lie, but Finn's version of reality was obviously a little different then mine, considering that it had been 94 degrees yesterday.

_Excuses, excuses. All you ever do is make excuses for why Finn can't possibly know what he's talking about. No wonder he didn't talk for so long, you don't listen to him when he does._

That hurt. I had wanted Finn to speak so badly, and I had listened patiently to him when he finally had, taking every word that came out of his mouth as absolute truth. Why was it so hard to do it now?

_Do I really need to tell you this?_

No, she didn't. I didn't believe that Finn could be telling me he loved me, not because Finn had a history of being a liar, but because if I believed him, and he was, not lying exactly, but confused about his feelings, it would crush me. Literally, I wouldn't be able to make it.

_Yes you would. If you've learned nothing else from Finn, you should have learned that. Losing a crush, no matter how bad that crush was, wouldn't destroy you. Like Finn, like a coal in the ashes, you would have survived. _

But at what cost? As much as I loved Finn, and as proud as I was that he was talking again, I wasn't going to delude myself into thinking that this was it, that he was cured. He still had a long, uphill battle ahead of him, and only time would tell if he would be able to heal completely.

_He will. He's not going to be the same Finn he was before, because he can't be, but that doesn't mean he can't have a life of his own. He'll go to school, maybe not right now, but soon, he'll graduate, he'll move out and he'll be able to have relationships, both sexual and nonsexual, with people. They're just going to have to be extra patient with him. You know what would help him, though? Having someone by his side who already knows him. Just a suggestion._

As much as I hated that voice, and spend most of my time preferring that it leave me alone, I had to admit that it could be quite comforting on occasion. "I am being there for Finn." I spoke for the comfort of hearing my own voice, not because I thought anyone could hear me.

For a brief second, I let my mind wander off into fantasy-land, imagining what things could be like if I actually did have Finn as a boyfriend. To wake up in the morning and have him wrapped around me, instead of staying on his side of the bed. To be able to give him kisses, and hugs and not have him flinch away from me like I was going to hurt him. Maybe he would even be willing to go further then that, all the way to-

"Well, yeah." Finn's voice was a low mutter. "You're there for me a lot."

Somehow I had woken him up. "Finn?"

"Yeah?" He rolled his head so we were face to face, uncomfortably close.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." Hopefully he hadn't heard me talking to myself like a crazy person. "You can go back to sleep."

He reached out and gently placed a palm on my forehead. "Do you feel ok?" 

His hands, his body was too warm, too much, and I was terrified that I would just go up in flames from the proximity. I nodded, but couldn't find it in me to push him away. "I'm fine. W-why do you ask?" 

_Good job stuttering like a virgin on her honeymoon. Real sexy, Kurt._

And then there were times when that voice was less comforting and more of a huge pain in my ass.

"Because you're breathing really hard, like, dirty phone call hard. I thought that maybe you didn't feel good." Finn seemed concerned, the back of his hand now against my cheek. "You're all flushed." 

I was pretty sure that telling him the real reason for that, that I had been having inappropriate sexual fantasies about him, wasn't a good idea. "I…I feel ok. I'm sorry I woke you up."

"It's alright." He stretched again, which only put his body closer to mine. "Do you want me to get back in my own bed?"

_If you let him leave this bed, Kurt, I'll kill you._

"No, you're fine." Then I felt clingy, so I felt compelled to add. "Unless you want to."

"Uh-uh. Did you get any sleep tonight? Because tomorrows going to_ suck_, and we need to be well rested for it."

Honestly, I had been trying to block tomorrow out of my mind. Tomorrow, at 8 am, Finn would be going to the police station, to give a statement, and make an identification of the man who had taken him. He was going to have to relive it, yet again, and this time, without my support, or his mothers, or anyone else's. Because this was going to be used in court, he was going to have to go in there with a court appointed person, the title of whom I had already forgotten, and the rest of us would be banned from the room.

Mentally, I tried to tally up the charges in my head. Capital Murder for Puck. I knew it qualified as capital, because Puck had been murdered during another felony, in this case, them kidnapping Finn. Which was a second charge. Kidnapping of a minor. Rape of a minor, at least one count. Unlawful imprisonment. Child molestation. That was six right there, and that just meant him. Joseph. Satan. If he didn't get the death penalty, that was enough to keep him locked up for the rest of his life, right?

_ Should be. But you know what a lot of this is going to depend on? Finn. When it comes to unlawful imprisonment, and rape, and child molestation, those are all his word against theirs. No positive rape kit, no evidence. If they're going to be charged with any of those things, Finn's going to have to be the one to say it. But don't say anything to Finn about it. He already knows, and you're just going to make him more nervous. _

"Kurt? Am I keeping you from sleeping?" Finn nudged me gently.

Only in the very best way. "No, it's not you, specifically. It's kind of everything, and I'm still not totally used to sharing a room and having my bed in a different part of the room and stuff. I'll be fine."

"Dude, no offense, but you kind of have raccoon eyes. Do you want one of my pills?" He was so eager to help that it made me smile.

"No, those are yours. I'm telling you, Finn, its ok. You don't need to take care of me." Except I kind of liked it, deep down.

"But you always take care of me." He stroked my neck in a way that made me shiver. "Like, all the time. I want to be able to take care of you, because that's what bros do, right? Do you want me to rub your back or something? That always helps me fall asleep."

The snarky part of me wanted to point out that 'bros', as he so elegantly put it, generally did not rub each others backs, especially when they were sleeping in the same bed for the second night in a row, but, I had to admit, a backrub did sound kind of good. "Ok."

_Finally._

I rolled onto my stomach, which was my favorite way to sleep anyway, and cocked my head at him. "Do I need to take my top off?"

"If you want." There was an apprehensive note in his voice now, even though his face was calm, so I decided against it.

He sat up, folding his legs underneath his body and moving Wolf to the floor with a gentle thump. "Just relax, ok? I'm still going to be here in the morning."

If only he knew how many nightmares I had had about that exact scenario, only in those he was gone forever. Then again, we shared a room, so maybe he did. Finn's hand came down softly on my back, impossibly light fingers tracing my muscles before smoothing up and down on my spine. "Go to sleep."

About 45 seconds later, I was most of the way there, almost purring as blunt nails scraped across my shoulder blades. I had no idea who had taught Finn to give a backrub, but they deserved all the praise in the world. And possible one Kurt Hummel special makeover. Finn was humming softly, a tune that I didn't recognize, but I was asleep before I could ask him about it.

When I woke up the next morning, we had somehow shifted positions so Finn was on his back in the middle of the bed, and I was curled up on top of him, my head on his chest. One of his arms was across my back, keeping me steady. I made a noise that varied between a squeak and a sound probably only audible to dogs, and tried to squirm free. If he woke up and found me in this position, I was a dead man.

He was reluctant to let me go, but I was eventually able to wiggle free. A glance at the clock told me that it was quarter to six, and I thanked Prada that I hadn't woken up even 15 minutes later. If I had, Carole would have seen things, and, even though she had been cool yesterday morning, cuddling might push her over the edge. I got up and went into the bathroom, hoping to start the day with some actual hot water.

No such luck. The shower was lukewarm at best, and I had to content myself with the thought that Finn wasn't going to get any hot water either. Maybe before Dad started putting up the addition, he could consider getting a bigger hot water heater.

I was still grumbling, noises that rapidly turned to cursing when I realized that my face stuff was still at my vanity. I wrapped a towel around my waist and stepped into the room, only to be greeted by the sight of my stepmother. I squealed and shot backwards into the bathroom, ducking behind the wall and, almost tripping in my haste.

I could hear her laughter through the partially closed door. "Oh, Kurt, it's not that bad. I've seen more when you are in your swimsuit. Plus, I'm a mother and a nurse. You have nothing that I haven't seen before."

That didn't matter. I was naked under this towel!

_You were naked under your swim trunks, too. For God's sake, she doesn't care._

Well, _I _cared. I wouldn't even peek around the corner, because I didn't want to see her making that special Mom face, the one that said they didn't want to laugh, but only because they knew you would be offended. "Ok, I'll be gone in two minutes, I promise. Finn, honey, it's time to get up." He grumbled something that was impossible to understand.

"Come on, sweetheart, I have French toast waiting for you upstairs. With powdered sugar…" She was coaxing now, which meant that Finn was having one of his semi comatose mornings. I might as well dress in here and just be careful of my shirt when I used my moisturizers. If I wasn't ready when it was time to go to the station, I was going to get left behind.

I had just dropped my towel when the door came swinging all the way open and Finn stumbled in. "Dude! If you're naked, you have to let me know!" Finn sounded shocked, and not at all sleepy.

_Yeah, well, notice he's not looking away either._

Not, he wasn't. Actually, we were both frozen in place, him staring, and me making zero effort to cover myself. Then I heard Carole yell Finn's name, and we both shot to action, screaming and stumbling away from each other. I grabbed my towel and covered myself up, even though it was no longer necessary. He had seen absolutely everything. Finn was out of the room, actually slamming the door in between us for the first time since he had been back. Through it, I could hear Carole scolding him for not knocking, and him telling her that he had learned his lesson.

My face and neck were flushed bright red when I finally got the courage to look in the mirror. Oh, God, Finn Hudson had seen me naked. The day had barely started, and it was already ruined. Could things get any worse?

_Oh, you're such a drama queen. It wasn't that bad. So Finn Hudson saw you naked. Guess what? You don't have anything that he doesn't. Plus, wasn't it kind of a thrill that he couldn't stop looking? _

Oh, no, this was not going to happen. The creepy voice in my head, the one I was trying so hard to get rid of, was not about to become my best girlfriend. And, yes, since it had asked, there was a thrill there. A tiny, tiny, dirty, little thrill.

_At least you didn't get hard._

Point made. Things could have been a lot worse. Or possibly better, maybe Finn would have been turned on by it, and decided that we needed to try a few things out and-

_With his mother five feet away? Really?_

Oh yeah, I had forgotten about Carole. Never mind about the fooling around, then.

_And let me say it again, groping him in the bathroom is not being slow or gentle. Do you really want to freak him out so bad he won't go in there and quits bathing again? Because I'm not eager to repeat that experience._

I wasn't either, so I decided to let it go. This could just be another one of those things that we never talked about again. I yanked my clothes on, but couldn't quite summon the courage to open the door. If I did that, I would have to face Finn, knowing what he had just seen.

But I could only stay hidden for so long, and I when I came out, Finn was still, there, sitting on his bed and watching me. He flushed and coughed awkwardly. "Sorry."

"It's alright." I had to resist the urge to lower my eyes from his. "I should have….well, actually, you should have been paying more attention."

"Yeah." He played quietly with the blanket, not wanting to look me in the eye. "Uh, next time I'll knock. I'm just a little nervous and I forgot."

"You don't need to be nervous. Just go slowly, and tell them exactly what you told me and your mother."

He shook his head. "But they aren't you guys. They're going to be looking for everything that's wrong with what I say, and then they're going to think that I'm a freak because of what happened. You guys are family, they aren't."

"They won't be trying to prove you wrong. They'll ask questions, but they just need to make sure that the story you're telling is as clear as possible. They aren't trying to make you look dumb or say that you're lying. The police are on your side, ok?" I wasn't sure where this fear was suddenly coming from, or if it had been there the entire time. "We already requested Officer Logan be there, and you like him, right?"

"Yeah. He brings me cokes and talks to me about football and stuff. He's going to be there?" He had perked up considerably. "Except I kind of ralphed on him the last time I saw him."

I patted his shoulder. "Just on the floor, not on him. Besides, he was cool about it."

He nodded. "You can't come in with me, you know. I have to do it by myself."

"You can do it." I wasn't so sure, but I had to be strong.

"Yes." Finn smiled at me, soft and tender. "I can."

It was such a departure from his earlier fears that I was momentarily thrown. "You can?"

"I can." He nodded again, the movements betraying his nerves.

I wondered if I should ask, or if it was better to just hope that his newfound courage held up. Maybe it was better not to tempt fate. "Ok. Breakfast first, then station, then I'll be gracious enough to let you choose what we do for the rest of the day." He started to open his mouth, and I held up a hand to stop him. "That does not include anything involving a ball, or watching a bunch of overtestosteronized gorillas do anything _with_ a ball. Got it?"

One eyebrow flicked up, a trick he had learned from me. "I know what I want to do."

I was suddenly very afraid. "What?"

"You'll see." He stood up, and started towards the door. "Breakfast first, then station, then fun."

He was mocking me, of course, but somehow he managed to do it in such a gentle way that I didn't feel too badly. "Have it your way."

"I will." He bounded up the stairs without another thought, leaving me to sit down at my vanity and start on my face routines. My stomach was currently so knotted that I didn't think I could force any food down, which made me wonder how Finn could.

_Because he's Finn and you're Kurt. He doesn't think the same way you do, and you know it. That's not to say that he doesn't think at all, because he does, but he looks at this situation from an entirely different point of view. To him, the worst is already over, and he survived it. Everything else is easy in comparison._

Not easy, just easy in comparison. I checked myself out in the mirror, noticing the freckles that I had been trying so hard to hide last night. They were standing out even more then usual, the result of me spending almost my entire summer indoors. First Dad and Carole hadn't wanted me out of their sight (and honestly, I had been a little bit afraid to go too far from home anyway), then Finn had come back and he wasn't leaving the house, so I had stayed with him. At least porcelain skin was in on all the models this season and every season. Not to mention the wrinkles and cancer I would be avoiding down the road.

_Hello, Casper._

I did not look like Casper! I had pretty, pale skin, like Snow White or a nobleman or…

_Casper the ghost. Only you aren't nearly that friendly._

I might have spent my entire face time fighting with my own mental voice if Finn hadn't come bounding back down the stairs. "Come on, Kurt! We're going to be late!" He grabbed the clothing that I had laid out for him, something that was nicer then he usually wore. It was silly, but I wanted the police to see how much we cared for him, enough to make him looks as nice as possible. Plus? He looked great in those pants. God he had a nice ass on him.

Finn always changed in the bathroom, even now. I had thought it was because of me, but, ever since he had opened up to me about what happened, I was taking it a lot less personally. It wasn't me specifically he wanted to hide his body from, it was everyone. It was his, and he was making sure that no one had the chance to violate it again. Even if that violation was just looking.

All I had to do was put my bowtie on, which I could do in my sleep, so I wasn't in any great hurry. Finn came out of the bathroom, actually looking fashionable for once, and frowned. "You're not coming, are you?" His dejected voice turned the question into a statement.

"Of course I'm coming." I realized that he had misinterpreted my relaxed posture. "I'm ready if you are."

"Not really, but I think I have to be." He went over to his dresser and took something out, slipping it into the pocket of his slacks. "Ok. Now let's go"

A part of me was curious, but I decided it was easier to just drag the truth out of him later. I nodded at him. "So, police station, then home."

"Police, then home. Hey, do you think Mom will take us out to lunch? There's a Texas Roadhouse by the police station. Puck and I go there after he gets bailed out." He stopped there and picked at his sweater sleeve. "Well, we used to. I guess not any more."

This was one of those moments where, no matter what I said, it would be the wrong thing. Anything I mentally tried out was either stupid, or condescending, or was only going to make him cry before we even left the house. So I just nodded and wrapped an arm around him, giving him a quick squeeze. One hand came up and lightly covered my arm for a brief second before falling away.

"After we get home and do our fun thing, we have to talk a little." I knew that Finn was serious when he didn't add in the word 'ok'. He wasn't asking my permission, he was telling me how things were going to be.

"Of course. You know, Finn Hudson, I don't think I'm going to get tired of hearing you talk for a long time." Why did I suddenly think that I should have never said that?

"Coolness." He gave me that silly little grin, the one that I very seldom saw any more. "I'm ready."

It was a good thing, too, because Carole was calling us from the top of the steps. "Finn, Kurt, let's go."

Game on.


	20. Chapter 20

_**"There are no facts, only interpretations."**_

_**Friedrich Nietzsche**_

The car ride to the station was very quiet. None of us knew what to say to Finn, and he was busy playing his DS with his iPod buds jammed in his ears. It was a pretty clear 'leave me alone', and none of the rest of us had any idea what was appropriate to say, if anything. Besides, he seemed fine, bobbing his head contentedly along with the music.

It was close to a 20 minute drive, and Dad and Carole stopped looking in the rearview mirror after the first five. Since I was sitting in the back with Finn, I had a clear view of what he was doing, and I could see that his little man had died 12 times in 7 minutes, which I was pretty sure wasn't a good thing. So I stretched my right arm out, resting my hand on my knee with the palm facing upwards. Without even glancing over, Finn put his hand in mine. Despite his outward calm, his skin was cold and clammy, and I could feel his hand trembling against mine. I squeezed once, and he gave me a weak squeeze back.

Officer Logan was waiting at the door of the police station. "Hi, Finn." He nodded at the rest of us. "And hello to the rest of the Hudson-Hummel family." I liked that he addressed Finn first, which I knew would make my brother feel special.

Then there was nothing to do but wait. I pulled a magazine and some of Finn's schoolwork out of my messenger bag, and corrected quietly, grateful for the banality of correcting comma splices (and inserting periods, dear God, how had he made it to his sophomore year?) instead of thinking about rape and torture. Carole looked over at what I was doing. "Kurt, you don't have to do that. It's your summer break, after all, and you shouldn't be wasting it doing homework. Here, let me do it for you."

I wanted to jealously clutch the papers, but I understood that she needed something as well. "I'm fine with his English, but can you take the algebra? I hated it when I was going through it, and I hate watching Finn struggle."

She looked over the page, one eyebrow raising. "I didn't have to do any of this until college."

That, naturally, was Dad's cue to look himself, though I thought he was less interested in Finn's homework, and more interested in doing the old 'fake a stretch so I can lean over and put an arm around her' trick. Oh, Dad, you are so far beyond high school. He looked over the sheet. "I don't think he understood the assignment."

Carole sighed. "He never does. Finn's….he's not stupid, his IQ's been tested, but he has to know how it works in the real world. Just showing him a line on a graph and saying 'it works because it does' isn't enough. If I were to try and explain that you need to know how to set the slope of a line because that's how you determine how to lay out a building, for example, he gets that. If he can do it hands-on, it's even better. "

"Kinetic learner." I said it less because I didn't think she knew, and more because I didn't want them to forget I was there entirely, which might lead to Dad's hands going lower then her shoulders. As much as I liked Carole, that was a big no, not to mention disgusting.

"Yes. When you explain it right, he gets things really well, but you have to do it just right. They wanted to try sending him to a charter school in 6th grade, but he cried when I wanted to send him away from his friends, and I couldn't really afford it anyway, so we never followed through." She looked like she might say more, but abruptly changed her mind. "I'll go over it with him again."

"It's ok, Carole, I can do it. I've always gotten A's in math." And everything else, with the sole exception of physical education, because Kurt Hummel does _not_ sweat. I had to have good grades, because I was not going to be stuck in this cow town for the rest of my life. Dad's garage did not make enough to send me to New York, and I was not about to sacrifice my dreams because I couldn't get a scholarship. "The two of us have a system worked out."

The system involved copious amounts of chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and I suddenly realized I was making this sound so much kinkier and more fun then it actually was. It was just that Finn was very, very motivated by food, just like the lab next door. And the only way I had stopped Max from jumping on me and getting my clothing dirty was by throwing him a treat every time I saw him coming. The same principal worked with Finn, and who, by the way, could now write a halfway decent essay on Shakespeare, though his citing still needed work, not to mention correctly fill out a map of both the United States and Europe, including capitals. Whenever he got it right, I gave him a snack. Plus, he made this really cute little noise when he did so, a sound halfway between a hum and a purr. It was one of the only times I heard Finn make sounds at all, so I treasured it. But things were different now. He could talk, and he could tell them everything.

_Hopefully._

Yes, hopefully. I shifted the papers and started over, this time just reading his paper from start to finish. I know, I probably should have done that from the beginning, but I hadn't felt like that was enough to distract me from the reality of what was happening just down the hall. The book was Ethan Fromme, which I'm sure he chose solely on its short length.

Actually, the essay, which was about the perversion (though of course he didn't use the word perversion. I'm sure he doesn't realize that the word has more then one meaning, and it doesn't have to be sexual) of the typical fairy tale wasn't half bad. It was…actually, it was pretty good. Not spectacular, but B+ work at the very least, possibly A worthy considering it was Finn.

He had managed to plan the essay out, mostly because I had helped him with the outline, he had cited things in the required three ways, and he had actually come up with some pretty darn good ideas. They weren't as fleshed out as I would have done, but it was a good effort none the less.

I was correcting yet another rambling sentence when I saw Officer Logan coming down the hall. We all rose, but Finn wasn't with him. This was bad. There hadn't been nearly enough time for him to tell them everything that had happened, or really anything that had happened. He had choked.

The man sat down, and, for the first time, I realized how young he was. He couldn't be that much older then Finn and I, certainly less then 25. It was strange to think that in a few years, I would be this man (though much better dressed, of course). I would have a job, and bills to pay, and maybe someone special to come home to at night. And Finn would be…what would Finn be? At school? Working? Still at home? Would this have ruined him, or would he still find it in him to fight?

_Have a little faith in him_.

Before any of us could speak, Officer Logan held up a hand. "Finn's doing great, but he needs a break right now. One of the other officers is sitting with him, but I think he might like to see his family."

"Of course." We were led down the hall, to a room that looked like it was better suited to try and break the alibis of child molesters and murderers then convince one teenage boy to talk. It was gross, and smelled like disinfectant and pee, and there was nothing about it that screamed 'tell me your secrets!'

I didn't want to believe that this was it, but there Finn was, sitting quietly at the table. He wasn't crying, he didn't appear upset, he just looked…empty. Right now, Finn looked exactly the way he had the day I found him sitting on my front porch. Like he had hit his breaking point, and then been pushed 10 feet beyond it.

Carole went to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, but he didn't really respond. That was like before, too. I scratched his back, feeling the dampness of his T-shirt. Finn was terrified. "How are you holding up, Cowboy?"

"Good." His voice was soft and raspy, but calm. "I'm holding up really good."

"Well." The correction was automatic, and it made a tense little smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm holding up really well. This is good practice. I mean, I'm going to have to get up in that courtroom and talk in front of 12 judges and a jury and everything, so I better get used to it. You know, I want to do it right."

I hadn't thought that far ahead. To be honest, I hadn't thought about the trial at all. Or would it be trials? The crimes had been committed in two different states, across the country from one another. It suddenly seemed likely that Finn was going to be required to go back there, where most of the trauma had taken place. "You will."

"He's not here. Joseph, I mean." He hurried to clarify at my questioning look. "You know, I don't even know what his last name is? I guess I could ask. But he's not here. He's still in New Mexico, and he's in jail there."

There was a strange quality to his words, almost is if they were a chant, or spell. Without warning, I was transported back to being 5 years old, and convinced that there were flying monkeys waiting outside my window. I just knew that the minute my parents stepped out, they would sneak in through the window and fly away with me. Even now, I could feel the suffocating weight of the comforter over my head and remember the words racing through my brain_. It's ok, it's ok. I'm safe here. The flying monkeys are in Oz, not Lima. I'm safe here. I'm safe, I'm safe_. In Finn's eerily calm voice, I heard the undercurrent of my own panicked repetitions. Joseph was still in New Mexico, the flying monkeys were still in Oz, and Finn and I were both still afraid.

Carole smoothed her fingers through his hair, nodding slightly. "Yes, he's still in New Mexico." Her voice was calm and soothing, telling me that she knew Finn's fears as well as I did, and I felt a sudden pang in my chest. I could remember that tone, one that seemed universal to mothers, so clearly. I missed my Mom.

_I know you do_. The voice was sympathetic, and it threw me for a minute. That voice was never nice to me. It was always nasty, and cruel, and I wasn't quite sure what to make of this sudden change of heart.

_I'm not nasty or cruel. I'm honest. You're the one who has trouble being honest with yourself. I'm you, so of course I have sympathy for what makes you feel sad or hurt. I miss our Mom, too, you know._

That statement, simple and heartfelt, nearly brought me to tears. Luckily, I was saved that humiliation by Officer Logan appearing with a very familiar white paper bag. He held it out, and Finn's eyes lit up. "I had one of the guys sneak over to McDonalds and get you some fries and a coke." Then he shot the rest of us a guilty look. "I mean, if it's ok with your Mom and stepfather."

Dad wasn't Finn's stepfather, not technically, but I was pretty sure that that didn't matter now. After everything we had been through in less then a year, meeting, moving in, losing Finn, getting Finn back, it was almost inconceivable that Dad and Carole wouldn't end up getting married. Surprisingly, I was ok with that. I liked Carole, and I loved Finn, and, between the four of us, we stood a decent chance of making a family. Not a normal one, but a family, none the less.

_All you need is love_. I swear there was a tiny smirk accompanying those words.

"Love is just a game." I didn't realize I had spoken out loud until Finn's back tensed up under my hand.

"No, it isn't." Finn's voice was nearly as soft as mine. "Trust me, it's not."

I patted him one more time. "No, you're right. I was just caught up in my thoughts. Have you ever seen the movie Moulan Rouge?" I was pretty sure that he hadn't, but I didn't want to leave him on a bad note.

His face scrunched. "Is that the one where Nicole Kidman's a hooker and you think it's going to be awesome and you'll see her boobs, but then she hacks her guts out and dies?"

Dad gave a completely ungraceful snort that he tried to cover with his hand. Unsuccessfully, I might add. Both Carole and I glared at him, but he still couldn't get rid of the grin. "Yes, son, that's the one."

"But…oh!" Now he looked ridiculously pleased with himself, so much like his old self that I felt that pang again. "I know, that's from that song in the movie! Love is just a game. It's what Ewan McGregor sang. I know cause Rach made me listen to the soundtrack like a million times."

Now all three adults were staring at us like we had lost our minds. No doubt, they were wondering how Finn could have pulled that from one quote, and me asking if he had ever seen a movie that had come out an entire decade ago, when we were just kids. One of us, (and by one of us, I meant me, because Finn wasn't exactly good at explaining things. Even now that he was talking, it was sort of hit and miss. Mostly miss.) was going to have to explain that it was a Glee thing, outsiders just didn't understand.

It seemed like too much work to explain that, though, so I just smiled and shrugged, making sure to nod at Finn. He was calm again, totally pleased with himself, and it looked like a good time for us to leave. I stroked his back one last time. "Think you can keep going now?"

"Yes." He looked over the people in the room, then tugged me down so he could whisper in my ear. "Make your Dad stand outside the door, please."

I whispered back. "Right now? Is there something you want to tell us?"

He glanced over quickly and shook his head. "No, after you guys leave. Make him stand outside the door so no one can come in without him seeing them. You know, just in case."

Well. That was an interesting change from his previous behavior, when he had been sure that Dad was the one out to get him. Now, suddenly, Dad was the one who was going to protect him. I wasn't sure if that pointed towards Finn being more accepting of Dad, or just that Finn had decided Dad was the far lesser of two evils. I leaned down to Finn's ear again. "I will."

"Thanks." He sat back up and nodded bravely at Officer Logan. "Did you get ketchup?"

I could hear the officer laughing as we left the room, assuring Finn that he wouldn't forget something as important as ketchup. I stopped Dad right outside the door. "Finn wants you to stay outside the door and keep watch."

He positioned himself without hesitation, though he looked a bit confused. "Did he say what I'm supposed to be watching for?"

"The boogyman, I think." The words were sarcastic, but my tone was anything but. There was nothing for Finn to be afraid of. At least not logically. Joseph was in jail across the country. Finn was surrounded by police, all of whom would relish the chance to hurt a man who had victimized someone the way Finn had been victimized.

_Really? You can't think of someone else that Finn might be afraid of? Someone that was right there the entire time, and played her own part in hurting him? _

Lily. I suddenly realized that no one had so much as mentioned her, except Finn. Was she in jail, too? Or was she out there, somewhere, waiting to tie up the last few loose ends, namely Finn? My teeth worried at my lower lip. "Maybe he's afraid of Lily."

"Who's Lily?" Now Dad was completely confused, and I realized that Carole had kept Finn's confidences as well as I had. "Kurt, I think you need to start talking."

For a second I was torn, but this was more important then my whispered promise to Finn. And, anyway, I hadn't promised him that I wouldn't tell anyone about Lily. I had just promised him that I wouldn't tell anyone about what had happened during his rape, and that was a secret that I was going to keep. "Lily's his wife."

"I'm guessing you don't mean Finn's wife." His jaw was clenching in a way that I knew meant he wanted to hit someone.

"No, his. Josephs. I don't know if she got arrested, too and neither does he. Maybe he's afraid she'll come back."

"How could any woman…." He trailed off, because there was no real answer to that. At least none that I had managed to come up with in the past 48 hours.

People expected a certain amount of aggression and predatory behavior from men. Men are rapists, men are scary, men are criminals. Women are nurturing and loving. A woman wouldn't kill and rape a child. It just wasn't done.

_Yes, it is. True, women are more likely to kill their own child, but Finn's hardly a child any more, now is he? Physically, he's a man, and, in less then a year, he'll legally be one, too. Lily didn't see a child when she looked at him, she saw an attractive man. That doesn't make it right, but don't claim that it doesn't happen. Women are just as capable of being predators as men are._

I guessed, but it was always a male pervert kidnapping someone. Women didn't just do it on their own.

_She wasn't on her own. Karla Homolka and Paul Bernardo. Myra Hindley and Ian Brady. Fred and Rosemary West. All male-female pairs who committed kidnapping, torture, and murder. Finn was just luckier that he got away. And even that follows a pattern. When a victim escapes a pair like this, it's almost always because the female takes pity on them and lets them go._

I felt dizzy, but I made myself be strong. "Lily was there, and she did…things, that were just as bad as Joseph. Is she in jail?" I didn't know why I bothered asking, since up until 15 seconds ago, he hadn't known that Lily existed.

"I hope so. " He squeezed me, then leaned forward and whispered in my ear. "Look, I'll stay here, and you go sit with Carole. She needs you right now."

This was an odd moment in our (admittedly short) family history. Dad was supporting Finn, while I supported Carole. Odd, but good. I put one arm around her. "I love you."

It hadn't been what I planned on saying, but it was true. She leaned down and kissed the top of my head, allowing me to put my head on her shoulder. "I love you, too, baby."

We sat like that for the next hour. While Dad stood guard down the hall and Finn told the detectives everything. Or at least the Finn Hudson version of everything. I was sure that he was leaving some things out, despite me telling him not to. Still, I understood that he was humiliated enough, having to tell them about the rape and everything, but he had to be completely honest. There were going to be attorneys just waiting for the slightest indication that he was lying or holding something back. They were like sharks, and Finn was nothing but a little bunny with a hurt, bleeding, leg.

After an eternity, the door opened and Finn came out, looking pale and scared, but completely dry eyed. This time there were four officers with him, two dressed in blue, two in an olive green that did nothing for their (or anyone's) complexions. He sat down next to his mother and pressed his face against her arm, rubbing against her like a miserable, 6'3, cat. I was pretty sure that the Texas Roadhouse was now out, as was Finn doing anything else that required actual thought for the next few days.

One of the green officers held out a hand. "I'm Officer Ready of the Silver City, New Mexico police. Mr. and Mrs. Hudson, I presume?"

For a second, we all froze, including Finn, who turned his head very slightly to glare at Dad through half-closed eyes. They had made a little progress, but not enough that he was comfortable with claiming Dad as his father. Or, more likely, Finn was just asserting the fact that he had more claim on Carole then Dad did, at least for the moment.

Carole stepped in to smooth the moment over. "I'm Mrs. Hudson. This is my boyfriend Burt Hummel, and his son Kurt."

If the man was taken aback, he hid it well. "Alright then, Mrs. Hudson, the Mr. Hummel's. My partner and I are here to determine if a crime was committed against Finn in our jurisdiction, and where the trials, if there are to be more then one will take place. We figured this was easier then flying Finn to us."

Wait, what did if a crime was committed against Finn, mean? Multiple crimes had been committed, without any doubt. What had Finn been telling them in there? "What do you mean, if?

For a second, I though the words had come out of my own mouth, but then I realized that it had been Carole speaking. "Are you saying that Finn's lying about what happened?"

"Not at all. Actually, I believe his version of events completely. The problem is, I have a man in jail who's telling me a completely different story, which means I have to speak to Finn and get his take on what happened."

"What did he say happened?" Finn was peeking up now, obviously agitated.

They exchanged a quick look, saying things that I couldn't understand, then hesitated. I gripped Finn's hand, knowing that whatever they said was going to be bad. "According to Mr. Wright, they picked Finn up hitchhiking, and took him home with them when they found out he had nowhere to stay. He claims that Finn, who he knew as 'Jeremy', was a full and willing participant in a sexual relationship with both Mr. and Mrs. Wright."

Carole gasped and Finn jerked like he had been shocked with a cattle prod. "That isn't true! He's lying! I didn't….I didn't want to." What had started out as a shout trailed down into a mournful whimper. "Mom, he's lying."

She squeezed him tightly. "I know, I know." There was a fire in her eyes and I had a sudden swelling of pity for those cops. Mama bear was out to play, and she was taking no prisoners. "No matter what that, that, that, bastard says happened; Finn is only 17 years old! He's not capable of giving consent. But it doesn't matter, because my son is telling the truth."

"Actually, 17 is the age of consent in New Mexico, which is why we're in a grey area. Finn isn't sure when the rape took place, which means we don't know whether he was 16 or 17 when it happened."

"Rape is rape." Dad's voice was soft, but it made all of us look. "It doesn't matter if Finn is 7, or 17, or 27. They took him, which is a crime in itself, and they raped him, period. He said no, that man kept going. Isn't that the definition of rape?"

"Did you say no, Finn?" Officer Ready looked like he wished he was anywhere but here, having to ask these obviously painful questions.

My brother looked down. "I can't remember."

The lie was obvious, and my heart turned a summersault in my chest. Finn hadn't said no. Not that I though he had wanted it, because I didn't. I'm sure he had failed to say no because he had known that it didn't matter. It would happen whether he spoke or not, and he was trying desperately to stay on Joseph's good side.

"It's alright, Finn, the important thing is that you don't try and lie to me. Based on what you told me, both Joseph and Lily are going to be charged with multiple crimes. This means that there's going to be a trial in New Mexico, as well as in Lima. Look, I believe you, ok? Josephs a grade A creep, and we're looking at him for a host of other crimes. Best case scenario is that he takes a plea bargain and you don't have to testify at all."

"What does he get charged with? Like, how many things? Is it a lot, because he should get charged with a lot. Like a hundred different things. Or maybe two hundred." His eyes were dark and angry, and it made me wonder what Finn had left out of his story to me.

"What we have is kidnapping, unlawful imprisonment, child molestation, rape, rape of a minor if applicable, inciting terror, and anything else I can think up. Multiple counts of some of them." I liked Officer Ready, and the way he was trying to set Finn at ease.

"How long will he have to stay in jail?" Finn must have found strength somewhere, because he was sitting up perfectly straight, his eyes locked on the police officers. "Is it going to be forever?"

"It might be longer. He's being charged with capital murder in Lima, which means you might not have to testify at all. If he's sentenced to death here, it might be overkill to hold a second trial in New Mexico."

Finn nodded, and I could see the spark of hope in his eyes. Then it dimmed and died out. "What about her? Lily?"

Both officers flinched. "Mrs. Wright wasn't arrested. We didn't have anything to charge her with, and therefore there our hands were tied. With what you've told us, we're already getting a warrant for her arrest also."

No, that wasn't the truth. The truth was, that no one wanted to believe that a woman would hurt a boy like that. Even Dad had been shocked at the thought. Furthermore, I was sure that there were plenty of people who wouldn't believe that it could happen. After all, she had managed to get him hard, so he must have liked it. In other words, Finn had been asking for it.

My stomach rolled at the thought, and I wondered what was going to happen to Finn if he found the courage to testify, and no one believed him. He was hanging on by a thread right now, and I didn't want anything to happen that might sever that tiny connection. He gave the officer a hopeful. "And she'll go to jail, too?"

"Yes. She'll be put in jail, too, and we're going to conduct a second search of the house, this time looking for things that might incriminate her, also." The officer was trying, but I could tell that he was nervous around Finn. Whether it was specifically my crush, or just a generally wariness of teenage boys, I couldn't tell. What I could tell, was that Finn was confused by what he had said.

I tapped his shoulder. "What he means is that when the first searched the house, they were only looking for evidence that you had been there. Now they'll be looking for evidence of sexual assault"- I pretended not to notice the way Finn flinched when I said that "-by either one of them."

"Oh." He turned back to the officer. "Will you call when she gets arrested? Even if it's really, really late? Because I want to know as soon as she's in jail."

We would all breathe easier when that was the case, but I could help but be surprised at how worried Finn suddenly seemed. Or maybe he had been that worried all along, and just couldn't express it correctly.

"Absolutely. We have your home phone, but do you have a cell phone number I could try as well?"

Bingo. When he offered that, Finn's entire face lit up in an adorable smile. In that moment, I knew that he would do whatever the officers asked of him, because they had earned his trust. Even now, all it usually took was a kind word and some attention, and Finn would melt for anyone.

Well, for policemen, at least. Other men, including Dad, were still considered to be the spawn of Satan, or maybe the horned guy himself. He scrawled down both his mother's number and mine, holding it back out. Officer Ready nodded. "The warrant should go out shortly, and, provided everything goes to plan, we should have an arrest by tonight."

"You'll call, even if it's late? Because I'm going to wait up." Finn was totally fixated on the man.

"How's this: I call after we leave the house, whether we made an arrest or not. Then you don't have to sit up and worry in case she isn't home." The second officer, the one who hadn't been named, spoke up.

"Yeah, that's smart. But you'll call, right? You have to, you said you would." He was starting to lose control, the stress and worry of the day getting to him. He had held up with rare skill and stubbornness, but he was emotionally finished.

The unnamed officer pulled a card out of his pocked and scrawled a number on the back. "Ok, this is my personal cell phone. If I haven't called you by five, you call me."

Finn clutched the card like it was the Hope diamond or a particularly fierce pair of Gucci shoes. " Thanks." He signed the words as he said them, something I sometimes caught him doing. He did it less when it was just the two of us and more when he started getting stressed out. But I had noticed that he didn't talk very much when it was just him and me, either. It wasn't that we didn't communicate, because we did. It was just that we didn't seem to need words or signs to do it. I just got him, probably because I had spent so much time with him, reading his body language, since he came back.

_Uh-huh, I'm sure that's it. _

That voice needed to die, now. Just because I had a small (very small!), slightly inappropriate crush on Finn, it didn't mean anything. I had fully accepted that nothing would happen between us, and I was working on getting over him. And anyway, that crush, and the subsequent hours I had spent memorizing his every more, had proven themselves to be very helpful

"Is there anything else that we can help you guys with?" Dad was clearly eager to get out of this police station, and get Finn safely home.

"Unless there's something else that Finn would like to tell us?" We all looked over at Finn, who was looking at the floor.

To my surprise, he nodded, but didn't say anything. I gave him a gentle nudge. "Finn?"

"I just wanted to say that I wish that both of them were dead, and that Puck wasn't." He whispered the words, like he was saying something wrong.

Looking at his downcast eyes, I suddenly wondered if he had ever truly hated anyone before. Probably not, or he wouldn't be so ashamed of the feeling now. Fresh tears threatened at the thought of how naïve Finn had really been, and the fact that he would never be that way again. "I do, too."

He gave me a tentative smile, his small 'thank you'. Dad nodded. "I think we all do, Finn."

"Ok, I'm done now." He actually yawned, like the day had worn him out and he was ready to get back in bed. I had to fight an urge to reach out for him, and kiss his worries away.

Officer Ready raised one hand, like he wanted to pat Finn's back or something, but he thought better of it and dropped it back to his side. That was probably a good idea, since Finn didn't care much for being touched these days, especially by strangers. "Finn, we'll call you, ok?"

"Yeah." He gave himself a visible shake and looked up. "I mean, yes, I'll be waiting."

Carole gave me a look that I had no trouble reading. It was a classic 'Kurt, go take Finn out to the car right now, before something goes wrong' look. Then I was disturbed because I had never seen that particular look from Carole before. Slowly but surely, we were becoming a family. I shook my head to clear it. There would be plenty of time to obsess over that later. "Come on, Finn. We're going to wait in the car."

He came along readily, probably more then ready to get the smell of urine and decaying concrete out of his nose. Dad had tossed me the keys, so I turned on the air conditioning and gave Finn a smile that I didn't actually feel. "So, you did it! Joseph's still in jail, Lily's going to get arrested, and you'll be able to breathe easier now."

"Yeah. I can breathe now." He picked up the DS and turned it on, but didn't start playing. Instead he laid his head on my shoulder, the rest of his body going limp. "I can breathe."

Only he couldn't. Oh, he was doing just fine with the in and out, I could feel the air across my collarbones, but there was still a tension in his every move and gesture, all the signs of someone who was just barely holding himself together.

I didn't know how to comfort him. With Finn, the carefully laid down lines of behavior had wavered and blurred until I had no idea what might and might not be appropriate to do. Could I hug him? Yes. Would he snuggle? He was doing it right now. Would he accept a kiss or a declaration of undying love? Not likely.

_So there's absolutely nothing between letting him rest with you for a few minutes and planning out your wedding? God, Kurt, you're acting like the worlds come to an end. _

Maybe for Finn it had, but then, maybe not. He was getting better, even if it was in fits and starts, and I had to keep reminding myself of that. Tentatively, I ran my fingers through his hair, which made him sigh softly. Good, this was acceptable to him. He let me do that for a few minutes before he seemed to relax and let go of the last of his worries. Then he twisted and whispered into my ear. "Can you ask your Dad to take us to lunch? If I ask, he'll say no. But if you do it, he has to say yes."

Dad was never going to believe that I wanted to eat at a steakhouse. "I will, but he would say yes if you asked him, too. He loves you, Finn."

That was enough to earn a soft snort. "I know he does. But if I ask him to take me out somewhere fancy, then I owe him. And I'm not going to owe him anything." His voice had turned hard.

Something important was happening here, if only I could see it. "First of all, Texas Roadhouse is not 'fancy'. Second, you wouldn't owe Dad anything. He'll feed us because he loves us, and because that's what parents do. But, if it's important to you, I'll be the one who asks." My stomach rolled over at the thought of what sort of favor Finn thought that Dad might require of him.

"It is." That apparently ended the conversation, because he picked up his game and started playing. Then he muttered. "Thanks, Kurt. Love you."

Every time I thought I had Finn figured out, he managed to shock me again. "Excuse me?"

He looked up. "Thanks Kurt. Love you." This time he spoke very distinctly, like he thought my hearing was the issue, rather then what was coming out of his mouth.

"I heard you the first time." I could tell he was about to ask me why I had asked him to repeat himself, so I held up a hand to stop him. "Why would you tell me that you love me?"

"Cause I do." He was pretending that he was still playing, but his character wasn't moving. He was focused on me, instead, studying me through lowered eyelids.

"You love me." I was proud that my voice didn't betray my clenching stomach and suddenly aching head. "I guess that's good. Because if things keep going the way they have been, you and I are going to be brothers. It's good for brothers to love each other, as long as you remember that love the first time I do something that really pisses you off."

His eyes narrowed, and my stomach rolled over again. Finn was serious about what he had said, and he didn't like me making light of it. But I couldn't take that risk. Finn wasn't gay, or bi, or even slightly interested in men. He loved boobies and lots of them. His porn was all….actually; I guessed I had never actually seen his porn. I had never had the courage to look inside the box, and he had taken it and shoved it under his bed, where, to the best of my knowledge, it still was. Maybe Finn was curious. Maybe Finn could want me back.

I waited expectantly, but the voice was silent. Why was it always giving me advice when I didn't want it, but, when I desperately needed it, it was quiet? I couldn't figure this out on my own.

But I was on my own right now, so I took a deep, cleansing, breath. "That's what you mean, isn't it?"

He was holding the cards now; it was all up to him. My heart was thudding like crazy and I couldn't seem to catch my breath. Finn looked up, and he was so tentative that it almost broke my heart. "Is it what you want me to mean?"

Nice try. "I asked you first." Dear God, did I really plan on getting myself into an adult relationship by acting like an eight year old?

"Mom." He looked past me and I realized that both of our parents were standing outside the car. Shit, I had waited too long.

Finn, however, looked relieved as they climbed into the car. Dad held out his hand and I tossed him the keys. "Are you boys ready to go home?"

"Actually, I would like to go out to lunch. Can we go to the Texas Roadhouse?" The bitchy part of me wanted to say nothing and just let Dad take us home, but that wasn't fair to Finn. Confusing, confusing, uncertain, sweet, sexy, straight, Finn.

"You want to go to the Texas Roadhouse? The last time we went there, you left pictures of cholesterol filled hearts and quadruple bypass surgeries around the house for weeks." Dad's gaze met mine in the rearview mirror and I cut my eyes over at Finn.

He nodded, telling me that he got it. "Well, if you guys are up to going out to lunch, how would you feel about a road trip to Canton? I have part I was planning on picking up today, but since we had to go to the police station, my plans sidetracked. Carole? Do you have any plans for today?"

She shook her head and turned to Finn. "What about it, Sweetie? Do you feel up to going for a ride?"

"Yeah." It was whispered but clear. He was holding tightly to his game, but he was willing to take the chance and trust that Dad wasn't going to take him anywhere dangerous. "If we can get lunch, too. And I can stay in the car when Mr. Hummel gets the part."

"Deal. And you can feel free to pick the restaurant. Kurt can have Texas Roadhouse another time."

When Finn smiled, I knew that this was going to be ok. The trip to Canton, that was. What was happening between him and I was entirely different, and not even remotely likely to end up alright, but that was another problem for another day. "Ok."

Then he settled back down with his DS, looking for all the world like he was completely lost in the game. He wasn't though. In fact, he gave it about five minutes and gently poked me in the side. I looked up from my copy of French Vogue. "What?"

"We'll talk about it tonight, ok?" He didn't bother to clarify what 'it' was, because we both already knew. 'It', the fact that Finn told me he loved me, and maybe he did and maybe he didn't, but the thought of either one being true made me nauseous. I loved Finn, I would always love Finn, but that didn't mean that I was good for him, or that he was good for me. What if we tried something, and it was horrible and I would have ended up not only breaking my heart and his, but getting Carole and Dad hurt was well?

_Whine, whine, whine. All I hear for almost two years is how much you want Finn Hudson, and now that you have a chance to get him, you've turned to second guessing. Man up! _

Oh, so now that voice could speak up. Not when it might have actually done me some good, but now that the crisis was over and I didn't need it any more. Still, manning up was a pretty good suggestion, even if I was loathe to admit that that voice ever had any halfway decent advice. "Alright, we'll talk about it tonight." Hopefully with Finn in his bed and me in mine.

_Really? Do you really want that sexy thing to get spooked and crawl back into his own bed? Because I think you like having him close._

I did. I liked his smell, and the soft, mumbled, conversations he had with himself all night long, and the way he would lay his arm across my back sometime after I fell asleep. I liked waking up with my head on his chest, feeling his heart thump against me, and knowing that I could have lost him forever, but didn't. The problem was, I liked it way too much. I should be thankful that Finn sleeps so deeply, because it was a constant struggle to keep my body from doing something very foolish. Especially when I remembered the way he had stared this morning when he broke into the bathroom and- I looked down and hurriedly dropped my magazine into my lap. Bad cock, get down!

I shot a quick, worried, glance over at Finn, but he hadn't noticed. He was too busy shaking his iPod, like that would make anything happen. I took it and backed it out of the playlist that he always got stuck on, no matter how many times I fixed it for him. Still, the way he smiled gratefully back made my heart jump every time. "Thanks, Bro."

So now it was bro? One minute we were bros, the next he wanted something more, and there were still times when he didn't want anything to do with me or anyone else. Even if the answer was 'no, Kurt, I don't think of you like that', at least I would know for sure.

_Maybe he's confused. After all, you aren't exactly being clear about your intentions either. Over the past few weeks I've heard 'Finn, we're getting too close', 'Finn, I'll listen to anything you tell me', 'Of course you can get in bed with me, Finn' and 'Finn, we need a break from each other'. I think your signals are nearly as mixed as his. Besides, there's no point in worrying about it now. Finn said that the two of you would talk, so just let it go for now. Enjoy the trip._

Oh, yes, the family trip we were suddenly needing to embark on. Why Dad thought that any of us wanted to come was a mystery, but Finn had actually agreed to leave the house, if not the car, and that was progress, right?

_Of course it is. Finn's a fighter, even if he sometimes has to be reminded of that fact. Now sit back and enjoy the ride. After all, this might be the last nice family moment the four of you have for a while._

That didn't bode well.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: I figured that it was about time that we had a little family bonding in this fic, since Kurt has been hogging Finn to himself a bit recent. No matter what else happens between the boys, this is a family fic first and foremost. 2nd authors note to follow at the end.

_**The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together. ~Erma Bombeck  
**_

I half expected Finn to do something else confusing and inappropriate on the way to Canton, but he pretty much ignored me, instead choosing to focus on his DS. It was close to a two hour drive, and I quickly grew bored with nothing to do but look out the window and try to block out the sounds of Dad and Carole flirting. You would think that two mature adults would have more decorum then to act like Brittney and Puck. Or Brittney and Santana. Or Brittney and anyone. Way too much giggling and 'oops' touches.

Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer and was forced to seek Finn's company out, despite my solemn vow that I would do no such thing. I pulled his algebra out and gave him a quick nudge, calling his attention. He paused the game and glanced over. "Come on so we can go over this."

He gave a pathetic sigh, but unbuckled and scooted over so we were hip to hip. He looked at the paper and shook his head. "I suck with numbers."

That was true, but I tried to sound upbeat. "Then we'll keep trying until you figure it out. Now, let's take a look here." I shuffled the papers in my lap. "Since all of your answers are wrong, I'm guessing that you didn't understand the assignment."

"No shit." He sounded completely depressed instead of irritated. 

I remembered Carole's words from earlier. "Ok, let's back up. If you didn't understand this assignment, you probably didn't understand the basics. How did you pass pre-algebra?"

"Cheated off Brittney." He leaned over and whispered so Carole wouldn't hear, blowing air over my ear in a way that made me shiver.

In other words, I would be reteaching him pre-algebra, too. I took a deep breath and pulled out a clean spiral notebook. "X stands for a number. The point of pre-algebra is to figure out which number it stands for." Carefully, I marked 5+X= 12. "Now solve it.

"Where's Y?" Finn seemed confused.

"There is no Y right now. If you can't solve for one variable, you can't solve for two. Do you know what to do?"

"Um, I have to balance the equation?" 

"Right. Now do you have any idea how to do that?" His tone had already told me that he didn't, but Finn gets irritated when you just assume he can't do something.

"No." He was staring longingly at his DS. I told you, I suck at math."

I grabbed the game system and stuck it under my leg. "Don't even think about it. The first thing you have to do is isolate the variable. Do you know what that is?"

He snorted. "I'm not stupid."

"Alright then, do you know how to do it?"

"Uh-uh." He was leaning over the paper now one hand resting on my thigh for balance. I sucked in a quick breath and fought the urge to either push him away or kiss him silly.

"You want to get 'X' by itself, so we're going to subtract five from each side." I wrote it out on the paper, showing him how he was left with X=7. "Do you see how that worked?"

"No. How can you take five off each side and still have it be the same problem? You can't just get rid of things like that." He was totally confused.

I was a little confused, also. "I'm not sure what you mean. Subtracting five from each side doesn't change the equation."

"Yes it does!" Frustration was mounting in Finn's voice. "When you start adding other things, it isn't the same at all!" 

Ok, this was why I would make a lousy teacher. Not only did I have no idea what Finn's issue was, I didn't have the foggiest clue how to fix it. Deep breaths, make yourself be calm. I could do this.

_Yes, you can. You're just teaching Finn pre-algebra, it's not like you're trying to explain fashion to Rachel Berry. Or Finn, for that matter. Explain to him what an equal sign really is, and you'll be fine. _

Once my own frustration passed (and I listened to that little voice), I was able to figure out the problem. I leaned up between the two front seats. "Carole, do you still have those Skittles hidden in your purse?"

Finn gasped. "That's where she's hiding them? Damn, I need to start looking there for everything!"

The Skittles were in her purse specifically to keep Finn away from him, since sugar and artificial dye was like crack to him, and he would eat all of them. Which also meant that they would make an excellent teaching tool.

I took the brightly colored package and sat it in my lap. "You have to think of the equal sign as really meaning 'how do I make this equation true?'. I drew two imaginary lines between Finn and I. "You and I are equal, right? One boy on this side, one boy on this side. Therefore, our equation is true. Are you with me so far?"

"I think so." He was still focused on the package of Skittles, so I opened them up and gave him one. "Don't eat that."

He sighed but held his hand out flat, the bright purple candy looking comically small. "Ok, so now the equation is unbalanced. "One boy with a candy on one side, one boy without a candy on the other."

Finn was totally into it. "But if you get a candy, too, then we'll be balanced again!" He was obviously delighted at his own expertise.

"Right. But if I take your candy away, we're unbalanced."

Now that food was involved, and things were very clearly laid out in front of him, he was finding it much easier to pay attention. "But if we take your candy, too, then we're right! I get it!"

He was so enthusiastically pleased that I found myself wondering how often he actually worked things out on his own, and how often he just memorized them through sheer force of will and recited them back by rote. "Try this one." I wrote 4+X=19 and passed the paper over. Finn accepted it and balanced the equation with exaggerated care, carefully comparing each step to how I had done the first one. Within a minute, he had worked it out to come up with the correct answer of 15. "Good job. I tossed a Skittle at him, smiling as he caught it expertly in his mouth. God, I could put that pretty little mouth to much better uses…

_ Just like someone else did. _Only five words, and they made my stomach clench into a tight fist. Someone else had had those same thoughts about Finn, and they had ended up forcing him. They had hurt him, and terrified him, and done things that he might never recover from. And here I was, having the same perverted thoughts.

Even though Finn was giving off some confusing signals right now, that didn't mean that he wanted me, or that he would be able to handle the sexual part of a relationship even if he did. Which he didn't. Did he? 

_Your constant indecision is giving me whiplash. Either do something or don't, but quit whining about it._

But what if Finn-

_Don't even go there. Yes, whoever dates Finn is going to need to be extra attentive to his feelings and needs, but that's going to be true no matter who it is. You, Rachel, anyone. Besides, you don't give Finn enough credit. What happened was horrible, no one is denying that. But he survived. He survived, and he's still here, and he's made so much progress. Besides, it wasn't just a man who abused him; it was a woman as well. Therefore your argument lacks merit. _

He had survived. But he still had miles to go before he was even close to who he used to be. There were less then three weeks before school started, and Finn still hadn't completed the necessary work to pass his sophomore year. Not to mention his fear of men, and the fact that he was refusing to sleep in his own bed, and he-

_And you're a wimp. This has absolutely nothing to do with Finn Hudson, and everything to do with you acting like a giant pussy. You can stand up for Finn, but you can't stand up for yourself?_

That voice did have a point. Finn liked me, even if he didn't love me, that much was obvious. And if even if he didn't have those sorts of feelings for me, at least I would have put it all out there, and he respected people who didn't play around with him. I could do this.

At the very least, if he didn't feel the same, it might drive him back to sleeping in his own bed. I love the boy, but he's _huge_! I either ended up squashed against the wall, or on top of him in ways that were not appropriate. I would never force him into anything, but I was 17 and my body had an embarrassing way of betraying me when I least expected it to. Like whenever I was around one Finn Hudson. Or I saw Orlando Bloom in tights.

Even as I thought, I was writing out a few more simple problems for Finn. "Try these."

He was instantly absorbed in what he was doing, giving me a chance to study him without him looking back. Finn's left hand was tapping out a rhythm on his thigh, while his right hurriedly scrawled down some answers. His lips moved as he thought, and I didn't know if I had ever seen anything more adorable.

_Sigh. _The voice was lovesick, and I couldn't help but agree. I could be so good to Finn, if only he would let me.

"Boys?" Dad's voice came from the front seat. "We're here." We had pulled up outside a nondescript building surrounded by rusty cars. It made Dad swoon and me think of things like tetanus.

Since Finn was occupied, at least momentarily, I opened my door. "I need to use the facilities." Yes, the place was disgusting, but it was still cleaner then any restaurant that we ended up at would be. 

Dad blanched for a minute, then smiled. "Of course. Car? Finn? Do either one you need to come in?"

Finn tugged at my shirt, gesturing me closer so he could whisper in my ear. "What are the facilities? Is it something cool?"

I smiled and whispered back. "Bathroom."

"Oh. No." He sat back and picked up the paper, working busily.

Mechanics all seem to know each other, and Dad was already having a conversation with the man behind the counter when I came in. They were talking about (what else?) Finn. I used the bathroom as quickly as I could, wanting to listen in on what Dad had to say about his almost stepson.

"-doing fine. He's talking now, and he seems to be more comfortable. Still acts like I'm Jack the Ripper, but we're working on it. Finn's a tough kid."

"He'll come around. It took years for me to bond with my step kid, and I didn't have any of that other crap going around. How's your boy taking things? He's 16 now, right?"

I was plastered to the wall outside the bathroom, right around the corner from where the two men were talking. "Kurt's 17. He looks more and more like his mother every day. Plus, he's smart, all A's in school. Much smarter then his old man, that's for sure. He's getting out of this place, one way or another."

Did Dad always sound like that when he talked about me? Like he couldn't be prouder of his strange, gay, high strung child? I could feel a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Even though, deep down, I knew how much my father loved me, it still amazed me to hear him let other people know about it. With new confidence, I came around the corner and smiled at both of them. "I'm done. Where's the part?"

The twin blank expressions on their faces told me everything I needed to know. "There is no part, is there?"

Dad shifted uncomfortably. "No, there's no part. But Finn wanted to go out to eat, Kurt. He hasn't wanted that yet, and I don't want anything to happen that scares him. If I take him somewhere right down the road, people are going to recognize him, and they're going to mob him, and he's going to be terrified. I just…I thought that if we got out of town, then we might have a chance of having a nice family lunch. I don't want to scare him right back into that basement."

_Smart thought, Kurt. How come you didn't think of something like that? Come on, now, you're supposed to be taking care of Finn, and you're screwing it up…_

I hated it when that voice acted like Finn was my sole responsibility. He was Dad and Carole's, too, and capable of standing up for himself if he had to. I was doing my best.

_That's all you can do. Finn has to walk his own path, there's no doing it for him. But there's nothing wrong with clearing the path for him a little first._

"Kurt?" Dad sounded worried, and I made myself smile winningly at him. "What? Oh, yeah, that's a good idea, Dad. But Finn's not stupid; he's going to figure it out if you come back without a part. Bring anything, he's not going to know the difference, but he's getting better and better at smelling bullshit."

"Watch your mouth." Despite his rough image, Dad hates cursing. I also disliked the crudeness of it, but sometimes there was no better way to put things. "But good idea. Frank, grab me something."

A fan belt changed hands, and Dad and I walked back outside. Finn looked up at me, smiling slightly, and held out his completed paper. "Good job, Finn." I hadn't looked it over yet, but he seemed so proud that I wanted to encourage him. "What do you want for lunch?"

"Dunno." His voice was very, very, soft, like he felt that he had to hide it from Carole and Dad. "I don't know where we are."

That again drove home how hard simple things were for Finn. None of the rest of us thought at all about driving a few towns over, but Finn had a very limited amount of places he was willing to go. Home, the police station, Mr. Shue's place….I guessed that was it. He was really being brave here, and no one but me seemed to notice.

But bringing it up would just embarrass him, so I kept that thought to myself. I did, however, squeeze his hand. He didn't look at me, but he did pat my leg. "Dad? We're both hungry, but neither one of us knows any places here." 

"Finn, what sort of food do you like?"

"Anything." It came out choked, since Finn is still having trouble talking to Dad.

He tried to get a clearer answer. "Well, Y-Kurt wanted to go to Texas Roadhouse before, is that ok with you?" I didn't miss him fumbling with the name, but Finn apparently did. He looked down and nodded silently. "Then do you want steak?"

Finn still didn't say anything, but his nod was a bit more enthusiastic this time. He loved steak, and baked potatoes, and French fries, and all the other things that could be guaranteed to clog his arteries and cause an immediate stroke.

"Do you want to go to Outback, then? There's one a few miles down the road."

Did he know every heart attack inducing place in a hundred mile radius? Before I could say anything, though, Finn spoke up. "That's good."

That was two more words spoken directly to Dad, bringing the grand total to four. He was ok with talking in front of Dad, though, which confused me. Didn't he understand that he was drawing more attention to himself then if he would just speak normally?

_I don't think that Finn feels that way. Now, I don't know how he actually does feel, but he doesn't see things the way you do. He never did, even Before, and it's worse now. Why don't you ask him, though? He'll tell you if you do._

I wasn't going to ask Finn, because I was afraid to know the answer. Call me a coward, call me a terrible brother, call me whatever you want, but I was only 17 years old myself, and I just couldn't handle hearing any more horrors without losing it myself.

_Finn did._

Well Finn was just tougher then I was, now wasn't he? He was also bigger, better looking, and had both of our parents wrapped around his little finger. Plus he got the solos I wanted and I would kill to have cheekbones like he did!

_Whoa Cujo. I hate to be a bitch, but is any of that really Finn's fault? He certainly didn't ask for the extra attention, and I don't think he's particularly enjoying it now that he has it. Get irritated with Finn for things that are his fault, and God knows there's enough of them, but don't blame him for things he has no control over. He's doing the best he can with what he's been given, same as you are. Besides, he's not better looking then you, that's just your insecurities talking._

I knew that. Of course I knew that. It was just that…well, apparently I was a jerk. At first, when Finn came home, it was so easy to give him whatever he wanted, because he didn't want anything except me. And Carole of course, but mostly me. It was like a dream come true. For once I, Kurt Hummel, had Finn Hudson begging for my attention.

And I loved him even more then before. Finn was still Finn, his sweet, sometimes goofy, sometimes playful, self. Just quieter. But he was still the man I loved, and it was an ego boost that he finally wanted me back.

The funny thing was, it all seemed totally normal when I was doing it. Except for the fact that we weren't leaving the house, I guessed that it mostly had been. Finn and I played games and worked on his schoolwork and watched movies. Later on, we practiced signing. All of it was fun, and normal, and, as long as you didn't count the fact that Finn wasn't talking, we could have been any pair of brothers. It had hurt, but I w as willing to accept that. After all, it was me refusing to treat him like a brother that had gotten him snatched in the first place.

_I don't think that that's how it happened. I think that Finn was snatched because he tried to be a nice guy and do the right thing for a woman with a baby. Yes, Kurt, sometimes nice guys get screwed, too. Finn got tripped up by his own sweet nature, not because of anything you did. I keep trying to tell you that, and you keep not listening. _

As much as I wanted to believe that, I still couldn't. If I had been a better brother, then this would have never happened.

_Maybe not. But maybe something else would have happened, something even worse. Maybe your Dad and Finn and Carole would have all been in a car accident going to pick you up from the mall. Maybe, if you weren't being so much more careful, those moron hockey players would have gotten you alone and you would be the one who was raped and dead. Or maybe things would have just built up until you and Finn exploded at each other in a way that you could never recover from. Which, by the way is exactly what's going to happen if you don't chill out pretty quickly._

That thought made my breath catch. Would that really happen to Finn and I? I had to admit that I had been getting more and more irritated with Finn lately. The worst part was, it was usually over something that wasn't that big of a deal. For the big things, like his talking, or his claustrophobia, or even refusal to leave the house (and yes, I'm fully aware that that makes Finn quite possibly the only person in America who's both claustro- _and_ agoraphobic), I had an endless supply of patience. But every once in a while, some little thing would set me off, and I would want to strangle him. What was _wrong _with me? 

_Nothing. You do understand that it's ok for you to feel like that, right? Your life has changed, too, and it's alright to feel irritated over overwhelmed by it sometimes. You've had to let go of what Finn was before, and accept that he'll never be that again. It's good that you can love this new person Finn is as well as the old one, but you're still grieving a loss, and there's nothing wrong with that. It's not fair to take your own feelings out of Finn, and you haven't so far, but your feelings are what they are. Accept them._

Just when I thought I hated that voice and couldn't stand to listen to it any longer, it came through for me. I wasn't sure that I believed what it was saying, but it felt good to have someone, even if it was a voice in my head, telling me that I wasn't a terrible person after all. _Thanks._

_You're welcome. By the way, you're at the restaurant. _

I opened my eyes to find that the voice was right. Finn was watching me quietly, his eyes searching. Thought what he was searching for was anyone's guess. Maybe he needed something, or maybe he was just concerned that I was sitting there with my eyes closed and no expression on my face. "Ready, Cowboy?"

"Ready, ready." He agreed back easily enough, but I could see that he was worried. He hid it better then had in the past, but it was still obvious to me.

Despite that, though, he got up and followed us inside. Since it was two in the afternoon, the place wasn't crowded, and Finn was luckily distracted by touching a stuffed armadillo by the hostess station. While his attention was elsewhere, Dad managed to discreetly ask for a table near the back, so Finn wouldn't feel crowded or snuck up on.

Once we were seated, with Finn's back against the wall and me next to him. Dad excused himself to the bathroom, while the rest of us debated entrees. As soon as he was out of earshot, Finn turned to me and whispered. "That armadillo is so cool! Do you think we could get one for our room? We could put sunglasses on it!"

Not in a million years. "Finn Hudson, dead animals are not décor, period. Don't get any ideas about stuffed armadillos, or deer heads, or snake skins, or anything else that you might be thinking of. Got it?" Even if the thought of an armadillo in sunglasses made me want to smile a little.

His eyes were wide now. "Oh God, what about a snake! Like, a live one! That would be the coolest thing ever! Mom, can Kurt and I have a snake?" Despite his excitement, his voice was still tiny, not carrying beyond our table.

"Sweetheart, no." I had never been more grateful to Carole then I was right then. If Finn got a snake, he wouldn't keep the lid on the tank closed, and it would get out and come slithering into my bed and night, where it would either poison or strangle me, and my face would swell up and turn black and I would look horrible in my coffin! Plus, unless there were made into a gorgeous pair of shoes, I hated snakes. They made my skin feel all shivery with their flickering tongues and slinky movements. "Snakes require a lot of care, and Kurt doesn't look too happy about the idea."

"So, no snake?" He was obviously disappointed.

"No snake. Maybe Burt and I can discuss getting a small pet, if you can prove that you can take care of it."

His eyes lit up. "Small like a Jack Russell or something? Because I love dogs!"

Poor Carole. After raising Finn for 17 years, she ought to know that the word 'maybe' was not in his vocabulary. In his mind, he had just been given permission to have a pet, and he was excited.

She did her best to backtrack. "Small like a rabbit or a guinea pig or something. Not a dog of any sort, and I didn't say it was for sure. You don't know how Burt feels about pets, and you have to remember that you and Kurt share a room. He has to have a say, too."

Finn turned huge brown eyes on me. "Kurt? Is it ok if we get a dog?"

As if I could deny him even the slightest thing. But we were not having a dog of any sort tearing up my clothes and peeing on my furniture and generally being gross. So I tried to bargain. "How about a tank of tropical fish?" They were beautiful, quiet, and would look great against the back wall of our room. "We can get a few different types, some coral, and even a little scuba diver if you want."

His face fell. "Dude, fish kind of suck. I mean, they look cool and everything, but I want something I can pick up and hold. What about a mouse?"

That was only marginally better then a dog. "You'll let it get loose, then we'll be leaving peanut better mousetraps all over the basement. How about a ferret?" They looked kind of cool.

"They stink. Mike had a ferret for a while, until it bit his sister, and it smelled horrible, no matter how clean he kept the cage. What about a cat? I'm kind of allergic to them, but it would still be cool." 

"I'm very allergic and so is Dad. Look, Dad hasn't even said yes to anything, yet, so why don't we talk about it later tonight? We can do some research on what might be a good pet?"

"Ok. But not a bird. Birds are scary." He smiled slightly, and I couldn't help the small trilling in the pit of my stomach.

"Not a bird, I promise." I wanted to remind him that Dad hadn't agreed to anything yet, but I didn't want to upset him. He turned back to the menu, his attention on filling his stomach as quickly as possible.

"What can I get you three to drink?" The waitress was tiny, with huge brown eyes and a pair of breasts that even I was impressed by. Under normal circumstances, Finn would have been transfixed. Here was Rachel Berry with actual breasts, his biggest fantasy. But he wouldn't even look up. This was his big chance to practice his speech in front of a stranger, and he was blowing it.

"I'll have unsweetened iced tea." I spoke up quickly in an attempt to get the attention off of Finn for a minute. Maybe he would be more comfortable if he wasn't being stared at.

Except it didn't help. Finn drew deep breaths, and I even saw him start to open his mouth, but nothing was coming out. After a few minutes of trying, he tapped my leg under the table. I looked down, my heart sinking as he formed the finger signs to ask for a coke. "Finn wants a coke, please." I tried to sound cheerful, but my voice cracked somewhere in the middle.

By this time Dad was back, and he ordered a soda as well, despite my glaring at him. Then he turned to Finn. "What do you think, Finn, should we try and demolish a Bloomin' Onion? I think we can do it."

"Yeah." It came out tiny, but clear. "That's good."

I noticed that he spoke around the waitress, but not to her. Now that Dad was no longer the most threatening person in the room, Finn was speaking to him clearly and directly. So basically, all the police needed to do was put someone in the room more threatening then the attorneys, and Finn would sing like a canary.

_I'm pretty sure having both Joseph and Lily in the room will be more then sufficient to scare him. _

I hadn't thought about that. Finn was going to have to sit there, and look at both of them, and know that they had lied about what happened, and it was up to him to tell the truth. He was the only one that could do it, and they, as the accused, had the right to be there when he did it. He was going to freak out, and this entire case was going to go down the toilet.

_And this is your concern how? Yes, it's something to worry about, but not right now. Right now, worry about finding an entrée with less then 1500 calories, and hope that that Bloomin' Onion doesn't give Finn the same horrendous gas that it does to your father._

I decided to take that advice, and turned back to the menu. Some sort of fish would be nice, something that would be good for my skin as well as being low calorie. Our waitress reappeared with the onion and four plates, and Finn and Dad dug in. Carole took a few small petals and nibbled delicately. I crossed my arms over my chest and refused to even look that the 10,000 calorie snack. God, did everything need to be deep fried?

Finn noticed that I wasn't eating, and gestured to the plate. I shook my head. "No, Finn. That thing is repulsive. Do you have any idea what it's going to do to your skin, not to mention your waistline?" 

He speared a petal with his fork and held it out, aiming for my mouth. "No, Finn." I made my voice a little more forceful.

For a second his brow furrowed, and I felt bad. Finn was doing so well, even with his not speaking to the waitress. Would it kill me to nibble on a little bit of that onion?

_Ask your thighs. If you gain any weight, you can kiss your shot of being on the Cheerios this year goodbye._

I didn't know if I wanted to be on the Cheerios anyway, not with everything else that had happened, but if I chose to give it up, it would be my choice, damn it, and not because some gym teacher with a God complex told me that I was too fat. Which I wasn't, thank you.

Besides, Finn could get very fixed on certain ideas, and I knew that he wouldn't give me a break until I ate at least a little bit. So I heaved a deep sigh and opened my mouth, allowing Finn to feed me the petal. It was…honestly it wasn't that bad. As much as I tried to eat healthy, I still had taste buds, and I loved things that were bad for me. "There, I ate it."

He smiled smugly and went back to trying to out-eat Dad. Carole caught my eye and smiled a little, giving me her best 'boys will be boys' look. Only I was a boy, too. Just not that sort of boy.

_And there's nothing wrong with that! You and your father have a relationship at the garage, and Finn and your father eat greasy food together. There's no point in being jealous. You love Finn, and you love your father, don't you want them to find a little common ground?_

Yes voice, I get that. Logically, there was nothing wrong with Finn and Dad having a relationship, and anything that helped bond them should have been ok. Even if Finn decided that he wanted me, he was still going to need to like Dad, and Dad like him if we were to have any chance of success. Plus, it would be less stress on everyone in the family, including me, if the two of them were to get along better.

But, deep in my heart, I still felt jealous. Dad loved me, and was proud of me, but I was never going to be the 'dude' or 'buddy' that he wanted. Even if there we had carved out our own niche, it still hurt sometimes.

_And I'm pretty sure that Finn isn't the shopping partner or cook that Carole wanted. He's as jealous of you as you are of him, so keep that in mind. There's a point where you both just have to let it go and accept that you are who you are, and you both have parents that love you for both your good and bad points. Otherwise Finn isn't going to be the only one having a nervous breakdown._

Finn _wasn't_ having a nervous breakdown! In fact, he was doing better then ever. So maybe that voice had a point about just letting it go. _Ok, I can do that._

Good thing, too, because the waitress was back, and now we were trying to get our food ordered. Finn pointed out the steak he wanted, requiring me to order for him, but he did manage to mumble the specifics on how he wanted it cooked, and what sides he wanted. I noticed that he couldn't look our waitress in the face, or even the breasts, but at least he was speaking.

Once that had been settled, Carole looked over at Finn. "Well, should we tell them?"

He nodded, then turned to look at Dad and I. "I'm not going back to school this year. Not yet."

My stomach dropped. "W-what do you mean, Finn? Isn't this what we've been working towards for the past couple of weeks? If the testing is the issue, I'm sure we can figure out a way to work it out so you can still start on time."

He looked down, playing with the packets of sweetener on the table. "It's not that. It's just….I can't, Kurt. I didn't want to tell you that, because you've been so cool, and you've pretty much wasted your whole summer trying to help me, and I thought you'd be pissed off, but, well, yeah." His ears flamed bright red as he finished.

I tried to regain some equilibrium. "First of all, spending time with you isn't wasting it. Second, I'm not pissed at you, alright?" I waited until he nodded. "When did you decide you didn't want to go back?"

"I don't know. I never really wanted to, but I can't just drop out. I mean, it kind of sucks here even if you have a diploma, and I'll never get a job if I don't. But Samantha doesn't think it's a good idea, and Mom doesn't, and if no one thinks it's a good idea, it probably isn't. But we needed to ask you guys first, because we're a family now, and families decide things together."

Carole tried to smooth things over. "I can home school him for now. It's not forever, just for right now."

Dad nodded. "If that's what you want, Finn, then that's what we'll do. But you do understand that if you aren't a student at the school, you can't do Glee or football, both of which will affect your chances for a scholarship later?"

When Finn looked up, the misery in his eyes made me want to reach for him and damn the consequences. "I don't want to do football without Puck, ever. We always played together, me and him and Fretter, and then there was no Fretter, and now there's no Puck. I don't want to play by myself." He pushed the packets again. "I'll miss Glee, though." 

It was like the air had been sucked out of the room. Except for the day when Mercedes and I had gone to the spa, Finn hadn't mentioned Puck at all. At least not to the family. It sounded like he and Samantha had done some serious work in private. Since none of us seemed to know what to say about Puck, I addressed the other part of his speech. "Well, maybe you could join us later in the year. Or even come and hang out with us, you know there's always room for you." 

He smiled, but it was pained, the sort of smile you give someone who you know is just humoring you. "Yeah, that'd be cool."

"Maybe we can work something out so you wouldn't have to give up on Glee. You were doing so well there." Carole didn't sound very hopeful, but Finn brightened considerably.

Dad tried to salvage the mood. "Well, Kurt, looks like your back to school clothing budget just doubled."

That mollified me, but only marginally. Like Finn was going to get the same amount of money to go shopping with anyway. Two hundred bucks would do him for the rest of his high school career, with enough left over for a new X-box, or whatever system he was currently obsessed with. I smiled gamely at him, before turning back to Finn. "Oh, but Finnegan? Don't think that this means you get out of shopping. We need to glam you up, or at least get you some new clothes. I swear you're already growing out of what you have."

It seemed impossible, but it was true. I don't think Finn's actually getting taller any more, thank Prada, but he's filling out, loosing his gangly look and becoming more adult by the day. I, on the other hand, was getting taller, my face thinning out, but I hadn't bulked at all. Not that I wanted to be some muscle bound hulk, but at least looking like I was a guy would be nice.

"Ok." Finn's easy acceptance surprised me, and I found myself staring at him. "Really?"

"Yeah." He smiled at me. "I mean, I kind of have to, so we might as well do it together. As long as I don't have to wear anything all…" He stopped and looked me over, obviously groping for a word. Please, God, don't let it be 'gay'. I don't know why the thought was so disturbing, I had heard him use the word in conversation before, even used it myself, but something was different between us now, and it was almost physically painful.

Luckily, Finn had other things on his mind. "Complicated. I don't want anything with weird straps and scarves and buttons where there shouldn't be any. Just normal jeans and shirts and stuff."

Oh that poor boy. He really didn't know that 'jeans' was not just normal cut, blue denim. There was skinny, and flared, and boot cut and…..oh Finn, you have no idea what you just got yourself into. "Deal. Jeans and shirts, I can do that. And maybe a few nicer things? Sweaters and such, for dates."

Too late, I realized what had come out of my mouth. I hadn't meant dates with me, even if I did want that so badly it hurt, but I just knew that Finn was going to take it the wrong way. Almost the very last thing he had said to me Before had been that I needed to back off, and here I was, back to old habits.

But Finn didn't freak out. He just looked at me and whispered. "Yeah, for dates. You know what looks good on me, so you can help me." There was something strange and knowing about his smile, like the Mona Lisa. It said that he had a secret, and I would never figure it out, not even if I looked at him for two hundred years. That didn't mean I wasn't going to stare at him until I had exhausted all the possibilities, though.

"Burt, do you ever get the feeling that you've just become superfluous to the meal?" Carole's voice was full of laughter, though she remained poker faced.

My face turned bright red, and Finn looked confused. "Mom, you're always super."

The puzzlement in his voice made the rest of us laugh. Carole smiled. "You're super too, Finn, but that's not what superfluous means. It means unneeded."

If you can say nothing else about Finn Hudson, you can say that he doesn't mind being the butt of a joke, as long as the joke is good natured. "Oh. Why don't things mean what they sound like? Things would be a lot easier if they did."

"They would. But the world doesn't work like that, does it? There's always going to be something that's hard and confusing. But we'll figure it out between the four of us, ok?" Carole's voice was soft, but she had Finn's complete attention. Their eyes, so warm and alike met, and suddenly it was Dad and I who were superfluous to what was happening. An entire conversation passed between them in the time it took for Dad to spear himself some more of the onion. I kept my eyes on Finn and Carole, but slapped Dad's hand under the table. I could practically hear his arteries clogging from where I was sitting.

As suddenly as the silent conversation had started, it was over, and Finn leaned back contentedly. "I love you."

He used those words so easily. Even when he hadn't been talking, Finn never let a day go by without signing to Carole how much he loved her. Most days, he did it multiple times, almost every time he saw her. As sweet as it was, I found it equally fascinating. The only time Dad and I ever said we loved each other was when someone was devastated and crying, usually me. Were Finn's feelings for his mother stronger then the ones I had for my father, or was it something else that made what was so hard for me as simple task for him?

_He's just more demonstrative then you are. It's not always about whose better, Kurt. The two of you love equally hard; you just have different ways of showing it._

I puzzled that, and the conversation between Finn and Carole for the rest of the meal. Finn, like the good little Hoover that he was, demolished his steak, baked potato, and salad, then made pathetic puppy eyes at my meal. I knew that he wanted some fish, and I was more then happy to share, especially considering that the portion was twice what someone my size needed, but I was going to make him work for it. "Have a piece of asparagus."

Finn glared at the stalk like it had done something to personally offend him, but reluctantly opened his mouth. I shoved it inside and watched as he chewed. "See? Veggies are your friends."

He scowled. "It's mushy. My salad was veggies too, and it was good."

That was when I remembered Finn's vendetta against all cooked vegetables. Still, he had been a good sport, so I cut him a small bite of Mahi-Mahi and held it up. "Try this."

He nibbled it off the fork, looking thoughtful. "It's good."

"Better then salmon? Because I have a great recipe that I've been dying to try out."

"Maybe a little better. Everything you cook rocks, though, so, whatever."

Be still my heart. Every time Finn said anything complimentary towards me, it made me fall in love with him over and over again. It was sick, that's what it was, but I couldn't help but love him. Yes, he wasn't the brightest, but his eternally cheerful nature more then made up for it. Plus, he was tough. He had suffered, yes, but, like a coal in the ashes, he had survived. "Thank you, Finn, that's a very generous compliment."

Conversation kind of petered out after that, and Dad finally paid the bill and started driving us home. Finn had lost interest in his homework, and I decided it was time to let it go. It wasn't like there was a rush on it any way, since Finn wouldn't be going to school after all.

It rankled at me, even though I would die before I let Finn know it. Yes, I understood what he was going to be up against going back to McKinley High, and that he was still emotionally fragile, but…well, this was going to sound horrible, but there was a part of me that didn't care. It was a part I didn't like to acknowledge existed, but it was there. So what if Finn was going to get teased and harassed? I got teased and harassed every day, and no one stood up for me. If I had known that just giving up and dropping out was a viable option, I would have told that school to kiss my ass two years ago.

_Well someone alert the newspapers! See, Kurt, in some ways you're tougher then Finn is. But remember: your issues are steady. You're gay, you'll always be gay, it's not going to get better or worse. But Finn…the truth about what happened, what they did to him, is going to come out eventually. Then there will be plenty of new fodder for them to attack him with. Let Finn stay home, at least until the trial is over, and don't be upset about it. Think of it as a strategic retreat rather then running like a sissy._

The word 'sissy' had never crossed my mind, though, on some level, I guessed it had. I risked a glance over at him, but Finn was deeply absorbed in his game. He wasn't a sissy, and he wasn't a lion, either. He was just Finn, and that was alright for now. I scooted a tiny bit closer to him, and was relieved when he didn't try and get away.

As we drew closer to home, though, he started to get tense and worried. I had been secretly hoping that he had forgotten about the talk we were supposed to have, but no such luck. The fact that he was as nervous as I was was cold comfort. Why did he have to ruin everything by talking, when things were finally going to well?

_Because nothing gold can stay. That's from….you know, I don't know who that's from. But you can figure it out while we're waiting. It will give you something to do instead of sitting here and worrying yourself into a stress breakout._

Was it Brown? Milton? Shakespeare? No, not Shakespeare. Next to me, Finn hummed softly, a tune I didn't recognize, but felt like I should. I puzzled on it, the words combining with Finn's melody until it was single, beautiful, song that replayed over and over in my brain.

It was soothing; even though I was no closer to figuring out the answer then I had been when the question was first asked. But we were home, and it was time for Finn and I to have our talk. I had put it off for as long as I could, and fought bravely, but I was finished.

Finn waited until the car was in park before leaning up between the two front seats. "Thank you for lunch, Mr. Hummel."

It was the first time he had spoken to Dad without prompting since he came back. Granted, it was an awkward and overly formal attempt, but he had done it. No matter what the setbacks, Finn was moving doggedly forward.

"You're welcome, Finn. But you can call me Burt if you like." Before, Finn had always called him by his first name, but things had changed. Things always changed.

_But not always for the worse._

That was true, and it gave me the confidence to put my chin up and look directly at Finn. "Well, Cowboy? Do we have some business in the basement?"

"Ok." He led the way downstairs, a false show of bravado. I knew that it was false, because I could see the tension in his back and neck.

Once we were downstairs, Finn sat on his bed, and gestured for me to sit on mine. This wasn't a good sign. Usually he wanted me close when he was telling me things that were hard for him. Before he could start, though, my phone shrilled at me. "Sorry, Finn."

I picked it up to cancel the call, only to freeze when I saw the name flashing angrily from the screen. Rachel Berry.

My worst nightmare had just come true.

**A/N2: I know, I know, you all wanted to see Finn and Kurt have the talk, and I'm sorry. I swear it was my intention for them to, but this chapter got really, really long on me. Plus, I felt like the divaish, singing elephant in the room had to be addressed before they could have any sort of talk. I really do like Rachel, by the way.**


	22. Chapter 22

**A man reserves his true and deepest love not for the species of ****[wo]man in whose company he finds himself electrified and enkindled, but for that one in whose company he may feel tenderly drowsy.****  
****George Jean Nathan**

"Who is it? Kurt? Kurt?" Finn had noticed that I was having a silent freak out. "Who's on the phone?"

I forced myself to take a deep breath. "It's Rachel."

Finn's face closed off completely. "Oh. Do the two of you talk now?" He was trying to sound disinterested, but failing miserably.

"No, Finn, I find Rachel Berry as insufferable now as I ever have. Not to mention her fashion sense. How a child of two gay men could possibly be so handicapped is a mystery that may never be solved. I think this call is regarding you."

"How come?" We were both whispering, and I had no idea why. It wasn't like Rachel could hear us, and the phone had stopped ringing while we fought.

"I may have failed to tell her that you were back."

Finn shot me a 'Kurt! How could you!' look, one that didn't require words to translate.

"She was in France! She was shopping and having fun and I didn't want to make you upset and…I'm sorry, Finn, I should have at least asked you what to do."

_But I didn't, because I'm still attracted to you, despite my solemn promise that I would leave you alone and do my best to squash down those feelings. And I tried, I promise you I tried, but you're just so…_you_, that I can't help but love you. Please don't be angry with me._

I was _not _going to babble any of that out, despite the intrinsic truth. "I just…I thought that she would come home right away, and then she would be here, shrieking and making trouble all the time, and I just wanted it to be us, as a family. We've never really been that before."

He smiled at me. "I like us being a family. And you're right. Rach isn't my girl any more. She's Jessie's girl, and that isn't going to change. It's alright. I don't know if I could handle Rach right now anyway. She's not really good at being comforting."

This was my big chance to tell him the truth, and, as much as I didn't want to, I had a sinking feeling that he wouldn't forgive so easily a second time. "About that…Rachel isn't with Jessie any more. She hasn't been since before the end of the school year." The phone started ringing again, but neither of us so much as looked at it.

"Why not?" I couldn't tell if he was being polite, or was already planning his new way to get her back. They were terrible together, bringing out the absolute worst part of each others natures, but Finn loved her, and love is blind. If there was anyone who knew that, it was me.

"There was a stunning betrayal right before Regionals, which was ridiculous, because we weren't going to compete anyway. We were technically a team of eleven, with Jesse, but that wouldn't have been enough. 12 to compete, remember?" At his nod, I kept going. "But it's not enough for Vocal Adrenaline to win. They won before the competition even started. They had to destroy us. It wasn't hard; we were already pretty ruined by what happened." As much as I disliked Rachel, I still hated to hear that anyone else had hurt her. "Jessie got her to come out to the parking lot, and they egged her. Take out the best player, you take out the team. It was cruel."

Finn shook his head. "It wasn't about the team anymore. The team was already destroyed. It was Rachel herself that they wanted. Jessie was a huge douche, but he loved her. That was why I knew I didn't have a chance."

Could he possibly be right? "I don't think that he's capable of love. I think he's a slightly cleaner version of the disgusting Neanderthals from the hockey team. Sociopathic."

"No, he loved her. I know you think I'm stupid, Kurt, and maybe I am, but I understand love. He loved her, but he had to get rid of her, because the team said so. The team was more important then he was, so he did it, even if he hated to. Peer pressure, Dude."

The phone was silent for a period of almost 30 seconds, then rang again. I could have silenced it, but I had to hear what Finn said next. "Would _you_ have done that? If the team asked you to?"

"No. The football guys wanted me to hurt you, to get you off the team, but I wouldn't do it."

As much as I had known the other guys on the team hated me, it still hurt to hear. "They wanted you to hurt me?" It came out squeaky and scared.

"Not _hurt_ hurt you. But scare you. Scare you so bad that you wouldn't ever even come in the locker room again. They said to do something…you know." His ears flushed red, and I did know. They had wanted Finn to sexually assault me, or at least make me thing that he would.

Finn read my face. "I told Karofsky to go fuck himself, and that you were super awesome. I also told him that if anything happened to you, I would tell Principal Figgins on him." He leaned back onto his elbows. "But _you_ did. You did exactly what Jessie did."

"I did not! I would have never, ever sexually terrorized someone! I thought you and I were past that incorrect assumption." Tears threatened, but I blinked them back. I was not going to give Finn Hudson the pleasure of seeing that he had made me cry.

"Huh?" He was actually squinting in confusion now, looking at me like I had sprouted a second head. "No, that's not what I meant. I mean, yeah, you were kind of being stalker creepy and I was kind of being a big jerk about it. You wouldn't have hurt me, and, deep down, I knew that. It was just easier to blame you for everything that was going wrong, when it was really everybody's fault. Mine and yours and Mom's and your dad's. I don't think that any of us were really thinking about what was happening. It didn't matter in the end, though, did it?"

His words lifted a weight off of my chest that I hadn't realized was even there. Whether or not I blamed myself for what had happened, _Finn_ didn't blame me, and that helped me let go of a little bit of the guilt. "What did you mean, then?"

"You told Rachel that she had to give up Jessie, or you and Mercedes would quit the team. And that you would get everyone else to do it, too. She caved to peer pressure then, and Jessie caved later on, but it was the exact same thing."

I don't know why I ever think that anyone can do anything in the Glee club and not have Finn find out about it eventually. He might not always let on that he knows, but there's just something about him that makes you want to tell him all of your secrets. Plus, I couldn't say much, because, he was right. Mercedes and I had forced Rachel to make the same choice that we were now condemning Jessie for. "You're right. We were cruel, too."

Finn nodded. "Yeah. I think we all are, deep down. At least we want to be. It's easier, you know? They hurt you, you hurt them, you just keep hitting back and forth."

I smiled brokenly. "You've become a very profound man, Finn Hudson."

His head shook once. "Nah, I just have a therapist who listens to what I say, then repeats it back in a way that sounds much smarter then I actually am. It's kind of cool, actually. You know, it's nice to not feel like a moron all the time."

The phone rang for the fourth (or was it fifth?) time. She just wasn't giving up, now was she? I picked it up. "Do you want to talk to her?"

For a second he thought, then shook his head. "I can't. I need to think about what I should say to her, you know, to make this right."

This was not the time for me to explain that there was nothing he needed to do to make this right. That Rachel should be the one puzzling over what to say to _him_. If Finn wasn't comfortable talking to Rachel, I wasn't going to push it. The fact that I was getting a dirty little thrill out of the fact that he was talking to me, but didn't want to speak to her had nothing to do with it. "Fine, but I'm going to at least answer it. If I don't, she'll never give up."

His mouth smiled, but the rest of him looked sad. "Rach never does."

I didn't even want to think about what was going through his head right now, so I picked up the phone instead. "This is Kurt's phone." I made myself sound polite but disinterested in what the other person had to say.

"Where's Finn?" For once, she wasn't screaming or overdramatic. Instead, there was a fierce coldness in her voice that momentarily threw me. "I know he's home, and I know that he's with you. His phone is disconnected, but I know you can get him for me."

I looked over at Finn, at his pleading face, and did my best. "Yes, Finn's home, and he's fine, but he's sleeping right now and I don't want to disturb him. How about I take a message?"

Finn signed 'thank you' over and over, his body visibly relaxing as the shriek fest began. "How could you even consider not telling me that my boyfriend, the Romeo to my Juliet, the Ophelia to my Hamlet, the Fiyero to my Elphaba, had been returned from who knows where? He needs me to provide comfort and succor?"

I tried not to gag. "First of all, do you have any idea how things turned out for all of those couples you just mentioned? Dead, all six of them. You weren't told that Finn was back because there was nothing you could have done about it. You were an entire continent away, and enjoying a family vacation. Finn needed his family, and that's what he had. We've been taking care of him just fine."

"You aren't his family, Kurt, not if I'm not. I know that his mother is dating your father, but how close are you really to Finn? Do you know his favorite movie, or pizza topping or how he likes to be kissed? We both know that you have this misguided attraction to him, but he's not yours to protect."

I wanted to explode right there, but I was held back by the fact that Finn was still watching my every move. He had never been good with angry people, and it frightened him even more since he had come back. Rachel was still yelling, but I tuned her out in favor of signaling Finn to go upstairs. His eyes narrowed, and I quickly signed 'please' and '10 minutes' at him. He didn't like it, but he went, staring after me with sad eyes.

As soon as I was sure he was out of earshot, I closed myself in the bathroom and let loose. "In case you've forgotten, Finn isn't _yours_ to protect either! When he disappeared, where were you? Out with _Jessie! _When I called you the next morning to ask if you had seen him, you didn't want to help me! Finn only matters to you when he can do something for you. The minute you found something that could boost your star a little higher, goodbye Finn, hello Jessie! My father will be marrying his mother eventually, and that makes Finn and I brothers and family."

She started to say something, but I didn't let her get it out. She wasn't the one who sat up with Finn at night, listening to horror stories. She didn't rub his back, and soothe him and spend two months trying to get him comfortable enough to speak. "His favorite movie is Dogma. He likes pepperoni, extra cheese and bacon on his pizza. And, no, as you so kindly pointed out, I don't know how he likes to be kissed. But I do know his favorite meals, and how long it takes him to get ready in the mornings and the easiest way to help him fall asleep. You know how I know? Because I've been the one dealing with it all while you ran around France eating croissants and buying every hideous pantsuit in existence!" I hadn't intended to let her get to me, but there was just something about Rachel that never failed to get under my skin.

"Well whose fault is that?" Whatever else can be said about her, Rachel Berry does not back down from a challenge. "Oh right, it's _yours! _ If you had called and said that he was home, I would have come home to help. But, no, you have to play the martyr, Kurt! You look up with those big blue eyes, and everyone falls over themselves to give you whatever you want. Guess what, I don't believe your act, and neither does Finn! He knows that this is all your fault! If you had just left well enough alone, then your parents would have never met, and never wanted to move in together. It's your fault, Kurt, and I hate you."

Red spun through my vision. "Well I hate _you_! Maybe if you had managed to ease up on Finn for 10 minutes, he wouldn't have been so stressed out! That's the real reason he was out that night, not because of anything I did. Carole let him go out with Puck because she thought it would help him calm down a little from everything that had happened recently. Like maybe seeing you with your tongue down the throat of the enemy!" That wasn't technically the truth, but it wasn't a lie either. Everyone had played a role in Finn's worries, including both Puck and I.

"I didn't want to hurt Finn! I never, ever intended to hurt Finn. Jessie was just...he was so _driven_! Finn's easy, but he doesn't know what he wants out of life. Jessie not only knew what he wanted, it was the same thing I did. Not dating him would have been foolish."

"Ah yes, because falling in love with the enemy always works out _so_ well. Congratulations, Rachel, now you'll have plenty of experience to draw on the next time you're asked to play a jilted lover." I had never heard my tone sound so bitchy, and there was a part of me that reveled in hurting her as badly as she was hurting me.

A small part of me marveled at the fact that we had all managed to hold things together for the four long months that Finn was missing, only to fall apart the minute we both knew that he was back.

_No shit. All that tension that the two of you were using to worry about Finn had to go somewhere didn't it? Like it or not, the two of you are in competition. Competition for solos, competition for Finn. Speaking of Finn, this exactly what he was talking about a few minutes ago. It's easier for you and Rachel to turn on each other because neither one of you can do a thing to hurt the people who are actually to blame. But you know who both of you can hurt? Finn. And if you can't even pretend to get along, you will hurt him. He needs both of you, so grow up and play nice._

The voice was right, so I made myself take a deep breath and release my death grip on the towel that was hanging up. "Rachel, we need to stop this." Even though my voice wasn't very loud, it was calm, and that cut through our fight more easily then if I had screamed.

She didn't agree to stop, but she did freeze, her angry breaths sounding amazingly loud against the sudden silence. The phone crackled with a poor connection, and I found myself just wanting to just lose it. Only I couldn't. I had to stand up for Finn; because there was no way he was going to be able to stand up for himself. "Look, you can hate me all you want, that's ok. You can even blame me for Finn disappearing, even though it isn't my fault. But we can't do this in front of him. You can wish me dead all you want, but do you really want Finn to come home to us trying to kill each other? It's not about us any more, if it ever was."

My head was suddenly throbbing, and all I wanted was to lean back against the tub and have a good cry. It was too much, trying to keep track of my mental health, and Finn's, and now Rachel's, too. I wanted someone to take care of _me, _but there was no one left.

"I don't hate you Kurt." Now her voice was soft, barely a whisper. "I never hated you, and I don't blame you for what happened to Finn. I don't know why I said that I did. You're right, this is bigger then you and I, and it's silly for us to have a petty rivalry over someone who doesn't belong to either one of us. How is he?"

How was he? Much better then he had been a week ago, and a thousand times better then when I found him on the porch, but nowhere near the boy Rachel was expecting. "He's…he's not ok. He's getting better, but he's not ok." Even saying the words out loud felt like a betrayal, no matter how true they were.

The other end was quiet for a few minutes, probably while she gathered her thoughts. "Is he hurt?"

If only it had been that easy. "Physically? No. Physically, he's the same old Finn. Emotionally? He's pretty broken. He wasn't talking at all when he came back, but he's doing better then that now."

"Does he know about Puck?" I had no doubts that she was taking notes of everything I was saying to her.

"Yes." My voice was still small, and my head was hurting worse and worse.

"He saw it, didn't he?" It wasn't a question so much as her begging me to say no. "Poor Finn."

Poor Finn indeed. "Yes." For a second, my throat locked up, and I couldn't continue. "Look. I'm not trying to keep the two of you apart, but please be careful. Finn doesn't need any more stress right now. You're a very talented singer Rach, and I know you love Finn, but you come on very strong. Try and be a little less…you."

She gave a small, weak, laugh. "You're right, Kurt. He's not mine anymore, if he ever was. He's nobody's now."

Why was it that people only wanted Finn when he could provide them with something? To Rachel, to Joseph, to Lily, he was an object to possess, not a person with his own thoughts and feelings. The Wright's had carried that idea much further then Rachel had, but the same sentiment was there. "He's never belonged to anyone except himself."

"Of course he belongs to himself!" She seemed insulted that I would suggest different. "I'm just saying that he's not attached to anyone right now, you _or_ me."

"He doesn't need to be attached to anyone right now. Right now he needs family, and his friends and that's it." A relationship was a hard thing for Finn to handle on his best day, and he hadn't seen a good day in the past 6 months.

"So what do we do now?" She seemed genuinely curious, and I didn't know what to tell her. But my 10 minutes had to be getting close to up, and I knew that Finn wouldn't give me any extra time, so I had to think of something.

"How about I talk to Finn when he wakes up, and let him know that you want to talk to him. You coming over right away might be a little overwhelming for him right now." There, that was ok, wasn't it? I was starting to feel nauseated on top of my headache, and I wasn't sure of anything any more.

When Rachel spoke next, it was in a very low voice. "I do love him, you know."

"I know." I didn't doubt that she loved Finn. What I did doubt was that she loved him more then she loved herself, and more then she loved her dreams. Not that I thought she should be required to give those dreams up for his sake, but she needed to be clear to him that he would always come second.

"And I'm sorry I screamed at you. I just…it should be easier for him, for all of us, and it can't possibly be that way."

"No." My vision was blurry with tears and I just wanted her off the phone. "I'm sorry I screamed, too. I'll have Finn give you a call tonight." Despite it all, my voice held steady.

"Take care of yourself, too, Kurt." Her tone suggested that I wasn't as subtle as I thought I was. "Bye."

I mumbled my own goodbye and hung up, just as Finn came barreling back down the stairs. It didn't take a genius (good thing!) to figure out where I was, and he hit the door with enough force to nearly take it off its hinges. All that succeeded in doing, of course, was bouncing him backwards, since I had actually closed the door all the way. "What are you doing in there? Why is the door closed?"

That should have been my cue to get up and put on my best happy face, but I just couldn't. This family was draining and Finn was draining and talking to Rachel was draining and now I was all tapped out. So I just sat on the floor and stared at the side of the bathtub, wondering why the people who had built the house chose such an ugly shade of green.

The doorknob jiggled and Finn let himself in. Without hesitation he threw himself down on the floor next to me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." _Everything._

He frowned and reached out, putting one hand under my chin and tipping my head up so he could see better. "Did Rach make you cry?" His tone wasn't as shocked as I would have thought it would be. Rachel was more then capable of being cruel when she felt like it.

"No." My voice sounded strange, even to my own ears. It was like I was underwater, distorted and strange, though his voice was perfectly clear. "It's just…." I didn't know how to finish that, so I just flipped my hand.

"You're hitting the wall." He reached out and slid his hands down my arms, gently pulling me up so my hands were on his shoulders. From there, it was easy for him to lift me off the floor, my arms tightening reflexively around his neck and his hands supporting my legs.

I hadn't hit anything yet, though not from lack of desire to, but I accepted his words in silence, taking the opportunity to snuggle against Finn's chest. For two years this had been my deepest fantasy, and now I felt too ill to even care that it was happening.

But I couldn't do this to Finn, so I squirmed a little, asking to be put down. "Finn, I'm fine."

He didn't let go. "Trust me, Dude, you aren't. You need to rest before you get sick."

Actually, my nausea was gone, and my headache receding into a dull throb. Finn laid me down on the bed with a gentleness that I wouldn't have attributed to him. "There you go."

I wanted him to lay down next to me, the same way I had been doing for him, but he stood up again immediately and went over to his dresser, rummaging around and finally pulling out a long sleeved T-shirt. He brought it back over and tossed it gently to me. "Go ahead and get changed, because those buttons do not look comfortable."

The two dozen perfectly shaped but pointy buttons on my shirt wouldn't be comfortable at all, so I took the shirt and changed into it. "You know, I have pajama tops of my own."

Finn had turned his back while I changed, giving me the same privacy that he wanted for himself. While I knew he wasn't looking, I wiggled out of my jeans as well. It was feeling more and more like bedtime, and I might as well go for it. "Yeah, I know. But I kind of thought that you might kill me if I went in your dresser and screwed up your folded stuff."

"You're a smart man, Finn." I didn't want to whine, but I couldn't help it. "Could you just…just for a few minutes? Please?" I hoped he wouldn't make me say it out loud.

"Sure." He climbed under the covers, his body warm against the coolness of the sheets. "Your bed is way better then mine.

It should have felt awkward, but it didn't. When I snuggled closer, I felt safe, like Finn could be trusted to deal with anything that might happen. "My sheets have a higher thread count then yours do." It felt like any noise would break the spell the two of us were under, so I whispered the words. Something was happening here, something that was going to change everything. "I'm sorry about this, Finn."

He yawned and laid his head next to mine on the pillow, so close that I could feel his breath on my cheek. "'Bout what?"

My hand slid up of its own accord to clutch at the neck of his T-shirt. He patted my fingers with his own, the size difference almost comical. "I'm supposed to be taking care of you, and now you're stuck taking care of me."

"No you're not." He must have seen the devastation on my face, because he tried to clarify. "Not that I don't think that you're great, and not that I don't totally love you for taking care of me, because I do. But you shouldn't feel like you _have_ to take care of me. I'm not a baby, and you're not a grown up. It's ok for you to take care of you, too. Or let me do it. You already hit the wall once, if you keep it up you're going to have some sort of nervous breakdown and end up in the loony bin. That would suck, dude."

Finn couldn't take care of me; he couldn't even remember to use the hamper from day to day.

_He's doing a pretty good job so far. Or would you rather be still sitting on the floor of that disgusting bathroom?_

The bathroom was not disgusting! I knew that for a fact, since I cleaned it myself every other day. This was mostly due to the fact that one of us (and I refused to admit that it might be me) did not have particularly good aim. But there was a certain amount of truth in the rest of that statement. Everyone underestimated Finn, which I was coming to think was a bad mistake.

"Try and take a nap." His free hand stroked down my back, just like it had last night. "I can stay here, you know, if you want."

"I do." Now that I was sure he would stay, I moved my hand from his collar to the bed, trusting him to keep his word. Not that I could have done anything to hold him if he decided to bolt, anyway. "What does 'hitting the wall' mean?" My voice was surprisingly deep, already settling into a sleepy rhythm.

"It means…" He looked up at the ceiling, taking a minute to gather his thoughts. I let my eyes close, knowing that he would think better if he wasn't being stared at. "It's when you're just too tired to keep going. Like you've just slammed into a wall, and gotten thrown off, and you don't even have the strength to get up off the ground. It's being _done_."

It wasn't until he said that that I realized how done I had actually been. Done enough that my body was actually making itself sick in an attempt to get me to take better care of it. "I think I was that." My voice was giving out, and I could already feel the looseness the preceded sleep spreading through my limbs.

Finn chuckled, his hand petting down my back. "Dude, I know."

Then there was nothing.

Naturally, since things never seem to go my way, the nap turned out to be a terrible idea. We slept right through to dinner, when Carole came down and woke us up. Which also meant that she got the pleasure of seeing me in bed with her son for the second time in three days. To her credit, she didn't make a big deal out of it. She just raised an eyebrow and mildly announced "Boys, dinner. It's pot roast."

"Yay!" Finn got up and staggered towards the steps, yawning heavily.

Carole shook her head. "Nothing gets between him and a meal. Finn, get everyone drinks, please. Tea for Burt and I, and-"She looked over at me. I shook my head to clear it and mumbled. "Milk."

"Kurt wants milk." Finn nodded sleepily, rubbing at his eyes.

I knew that the word 'milk' wasn't specific enough for Finn, so I cleared my throat and called as loudly as I could. "Skim milk Finn! Not that full fat stuff you insist on drinking!" I was sweaty, groggy, and more tired then I had been when I laid down.

"Milk with no flavor, got it." He bumped the wall twice on his way up the stairs, leaving me to wonder how he had made it this far without being a walking bruise.

Carole followed him. "I'll leave you to get dressed."

Because I was still half asleep, it took a minute for her words to sink in. Get dressed. Carole had walked in on me in bed with her son, and she thought I wasn't getting up because I was undressed under the covers. Oh, God. Why wasn't she freaking out? 

_Kurt, can I be the voice of reason for a minute? You _are_ undressed under the covers. Not naked, but do you really want Carole to see you in your underwear? She's being polite._

Ok, I guessed that was true. Since it was just the family, and all I wanted to do was curl up and fall back asleep, I just put on a pair of horrible sweats, the kind I usually wouldn't be caught dead in.

Dinner was a quiet affair, considering that Finn was eating as fast as possible, and I was trying to keep from falling asleep in my plate. The pair of us mostly grunted and agreed with everything Dad and Carole said, which was how we ended up roped into family movie night when we both just really wanted to go downstairs.

As the quote-unquote children of the family, Finn and I were given the responsibility for choosing the movie. This, of course, led to more problems, as I liked period pieces and musicals, and Finn liked things that involved a lot of explosions and boobies. We finally compromised on Little Miss Sunshine, which meant all I had to do was stay awake for two hours. Then I could get back in bed, hopefully with Finn, and this day could be over. Dad and Carole took the couch, Finn curled up in his father's old chair, and I sat on the floor, leaning back against the loveseat.

_Yeah, because you have such good motives for wanting to cuddle with her son. Carole! Oh Carole! Kurt wants to sex your son up! _

No I didn't.

_Yes you do._

No I don't!

_Yes you do!_

Ok, I did! But that didn't mean anything! I could keep in mind what Finn had been through, and treat him with all of the brotherly affection that he deserved.

_It means everything._

Fortunately, I was saved from a humiliating defeat at the hands of my own mental voice by Finn falling asleep, which resulted in him slumping over and falling out of his chair. He wasn't hurt, just a little stunned, and he sat there, rubbing his eyes and blinking owlishly.

Dad and Carole exchanged looks. "I think it's bedtime for Finn."

This was my chance. "Me, too. Finn needs company, don't you, bro?"

"Sure." He yawned again. "Sorry."

"It's alright, sweetheart. Come here." She held out her arms for a hug, and I had to resist the urge to shove Finn out of the way and get the hug for myself. Luckily, she didn't make me ask, but offered me a hug and kiss of my own.

Then something unusual happened. Dad patted my back gently, then, after a pause, held out a hand to Finn. After an excruciatingly long pause, Finn stretched out and slapped it gently, his palm barely making contact.

Carole and I exchanged quick, shocked, glances. It was the first time Finn had touched Dad since all of this started, maybe the first time he had ever done so. Dad smiled. "Good night, Finn."

"Night." There was nothing left to say, so the two of us headed back downstairs.

Even though I was tired enough that I was falling asleep on my feet, I was not about to neglect my face routines. The start of school was less then two weeks away, and I was not about to attend with my face all broken out. I leaned against the bathroom door. "Can I close it all the way? It was ok earlier."

His eyes narrowed, and I took a deep breath to keep from reminding him that there was no magic portal in our bathroom that I could teleport through and vanish. "How about this: I'll push the door all the way closed, but not let it catch? That way you can push it open really quick if there's an emergency."

"Ok." He wasn't happy, I could tell, but he was willing to agree.

I fully expected him to hover outside the door the entire time, so I took my time in washing my face and putting on just the right creams. Neither one of us said anything, and, hard as I tried, I couldn't hear him either.

The reason why was revealed when I opened the door and came out. Finn wasn't waiting outside at all; he was curled up in his bed asleep. It surprised me, because I had just assumed that he would want to sleep with me, the same way he had done for the past two nights.

_You know what they say about assuming…_

Yes, I knew what they said about assuming. I think everyone knows what they say about assuming. I guessed it was a sign of progress, though, that he wanted to be on his own, so I just adjusted his covers and whispered a quick, 'night Finn' to him.

It was harder to fall asleep then I thought it would be. The bed was cold, and too big, and, honestly? I kind of missed having Finn flopped all over me. Ok, I more then kind of missed it.

But he was comfortable and sleeping deeply, so I left him alone. And even with a cold and empty bed, it only took a few seconds for me to fall asleep myself.

Maybe that nap in the afternoon meant that I wasn't sleeping as deeply as I usually did. Or maybe I was just sensitized to certain sounds. At any rate, I was woken by a quick beep, almost a chirp. What was that? 

I didn't even bother opening my eyes, just pressed the heels of my hands into them and groaned. It wasn't a text message on my phone, that sound was too loud and sharp for that. Was it the smoke alarm? That could have been a low battery chirp. I kept listening, but the sound didn't repeat itself. Probably not the smoke alarm, then.

I had just about decided that the sound had been only in my dreams when the correct answer hit me with the force of a mack truck. The beep had been the noise our house alarm made when it was turned either on or off. I was on my feet before I could finish that thought, looking through the darkness at the small keypad that should have had a red light on, telling me that it was armed and ready. There was nothing, the panel remaining stubbornly dark.

_Think you're forgetting someone?_

No, it couldn't be. "Finn?" My voice was loud, but it didn't get a response. "Finn! Finn!" I was across the room in a few panicked bounds; my mind refusing to acknowledge what my heart already knew was true. My hands raced over Finn's bed, feeling nothing but a sheet, still warm from Finn's body heat.

But Finn himself was gone.


	23. Chapter 23

_**"Nobody ever did, or ever will, escape the consequences of his choices."—Alfred A. Alapert**_

My heart was screaming in my ears, my breaths coming in rapid pants. "Finn! Finn!" I wanted to scream, felt like I was screaming, but all that came out was a pathetic whimper.

_Stop it! You just heard the alarm go off, therefore he can't be far. Plus, the alarm was _turned_ off, not _set_ off. Someone from inside the house had to have done it. Now go!_

Finn wouldn't have turned it off himself, because he didn't know the code, and he had no reason to go outside. It was hard enough to get him out of the house during the day, when he could see everything that was happening. But I couldn't think of any reason for either Dad or Carole to want to go outside at 3:14 in the morning.

The fact that I was barefoot and half dressed didn't seem to matter as I raced up the stairs. I could still catch Finn; still make sure that he stayed here with us. I just had to move quickly.

Sure enough, the keypad by the back door was dark as well, and the door was slightly ajar. I eased it open, stepping out into the backyard, scanning desperately for my sometime brother.

He was there. My knees went week, and I sat down on the porch with a muffled thump. I wanted to call out to Finn, but something held me back, telling me to watch what he was doing before letting him know that I was here.

In an old white T-shirt and light grey track pants, Finn was easy to see, even in the darkness of the yard. As I watched, he unerringly paced the property line, his back to me as he traced our yard.

_He's way too good at that. Look how surefooted he is, never tripping or moving off the line. This isn't the first time he's come out here, or even the 10__th__. He's just never woken you up before. Now why do you think he's doing this?_

I had no idea. Despite the fact that he was talking now, Finn's mind was as almost as mysterious to me as it had been the day we found him. Yes, he had told me everything that had happened to him during the long months that he had been held captive, but it had been a mostly dry narrative. His feelings, his motivations for doing what he did now were still obscure.

_Are you sure he told you everything? I think you're taking for granted that he didn't leave anything out or exaggerate anything that happened. It might not have been a conscious thing, or maybe he was ashamed, but you may want to try asking again, as gently as possible. _

About that time, Finn turned the corner and saw me sitting on the porch. He immediately broke his pacing and came to sit beside me. "Kurt! You should go inside before you freeze."

"Aren't you worried about yourself?" I leaned against his side, and he responded by snuggling closer.

"Nah, I'm fine. You're really tiny, so you might freeze to death."

Tact could be screwed. "You scared me, Finn. Do you know how I felt when I woke up and saw that you were gone?" The tears that I hadn't even realized I was holding back started rolling down my face.

Finn looked stricken. "Dude, I'm sorry. You never wake up, and I thought you would be ok. I'm sorry, Kurt, I promise."

I wrapped an arm around him, desperate to feel his warmth and know that he was really here, that no one had taken him away again. "I know you didn't mean to upset me. But why are you out here at all?"

He shrugged. "I had to. Most of the time it's all ok, but sometimes…sometimes I just feel like I'm dying in there, and I want to be outside where I can be free. It's like the walls are funhouse walls and are just moving in on me."

Classic claustrophobia. I thought for a minute, then spoke quietly. "You can always wake me up if you need me." 

"I didn't. Not that I don't love you, but I just needed to be alone for a little bit. I'm getting choked."

I was pretty sure that the term he was looking for was smothered instead of choked, but I let it go. "Oh. Do you want me to leave?"

"Nope. Now that you're here, you can stay." He leaned back, staring up at the sky. "I think I can see the big dipper from here. Definitely Orion."

I wasn't sure if he was just thinking out loud, or he was actually working his way up to telling me something. I had never spent much time looking at the stars, and, while I knew some of the basic shapes, I couldn't see what Finn did. "Where?"

He pointed, but I couldn't pick out the three stars of Orion's belt, much less the box shape. "I don't see it."

After a minute pause, he reached out and took my chin, gently turning my head to the side. He pointed again. "Look along my arm."

Once I did that, it was easy to see what he meant. But I liked the way his hands felt, and I wasn't eager to give that up. "I still don't see it."

"It's right…" He trailed off, and I knew I couldn't keep this up much longer. "Look right along my finger. That's his belt, then the square around it is his body. Orion was a great hunter, so great that he hunted with goddesses and shit."

"I see it now. I have to say, Finn, I'm impressed with your knowledge of Greco-Roman myth." His arm had dropped from my face to my shoulders, and I leaned my cheek against it.

"Well, yeah. I mean, there was a whole part with a naked goddess in it and being a peeping tom and all of that stuff. It was pretty sweet."

Of course, naked goddesses. "Yeah, I think I remember that one." I laid a hand on his knee. "Do you have any idea how it felt when I woke up and you were gone? I know that that man is in jail, but she's still out there. His wife, you know. If she had come back…" I couldn't even finish the thought.

"No she's not; she's in jail, too. The police called while you were still asleep." There was nothing in his voice to betray how he felt about that. "But she's not coming back. Once I was gone, I don't think they thought about me any more."

I wasn't so sure of that. I just didn't see how anyone could possibly have Finn, then just give him up and forget about him.

_They didn't know he was Finn. They didn't know anything about him, except how to terrorize him the best. Face it Kurt, to them, Finn was nothing but a warm body, a living sex doll for them to enjoy._

It made me sick to think that, but Finn's mind was a million miles away from New Mexico and the horrors that had occurred there. "What did Rachel say when you talked to her?"

"She said that she's glad you're back, and that she missed you a lot. She wants to come see you as soon as humanly possible, but I convinced her that tonight was maybe a little soon." I watched his face carefully, trying to figure out what he wanted me to say.

But Finn wasn't looking at me. He was back to staring up at the sky, as if it was sending him messages that I couldn't understand. "Did she say if she wanted to get back with me?"

My heart was now puddled somewhere on the bottom of the porch steps, but I couldn't let any of that show on my face. If Finn thought that there was even the slightest chance that I was still attracted to him, our relationship, pitiful thing that it was, would be over. So I made my voice as cheerful as possible. "She didn't specifically say anything about that. But I'll all but guarantee that she wants you back. After all, you're the Romeo to her Juliet, her hero."

He squinted. "It didn't turn out very well for Romeo and Juliet."

_Oh-hoh, what's this? Is Finn having second thoughts about his relationship with Ms. Berry? Is he actually seeing what everyone else has already seen, that he and Rachel do nothing but tear each other apart?_

I knew better then to give any indication of my thoughts in either my face or voice. "No, it didn't. It's just a phrase, though, Finn."

It was like he didn't hear me. "I can't be her hero any more either. I can't be anything for her except a fucked up mess."

"That isn't true. You can be everything to her that you were before. I'm sure she understands that it might take a little time, but you'll be ok." I wasn't sure why I was taking Rachel's side here, but it seemed important. Finn had to understand that he wasn't damaged goods, at least not to me.

"It is true!" His shout was made even louder by the otherwise silent world we had found ourselves in. "I can't give her what I did before, because I'm not the same person. You and Mom and everyone keeps saying that I am but I'm not, and I can't keep pretending that I am. You have to understand, Kurt, I'm not." By the end his anger had cooled, leaving a broken sadness in its place.

Obviously, this was causing him distress, so I sat back and thought about the appropriate reply. Because, if I was being completely honest? Finn was right. Part of his charm had always been how naïve he was, the easy way he dealt with people, because everyone was his friend. It never occurred to Finn that people would deliberately do him harm. He had learned his lesson there, in the most painful and brutal way possible. He would never make the mistake of being too trusting again, and in learning that lesson, he had lost part of who he had been.

_That doesn't mean you can't appreciate who he is now. All Finn wants is to know that his family still cares about him, no matter what's happened, and that they don't expect him to be anything except himself. His wonderful, goofy, sometimes skittish, sometimes perfect self._

Finn was still looking at me, though, his eyes asking me for the correct reply. I looked back, trying not to notice how close our faces had gotten. "I'm sorry that we've been making you feel that way, Finn. You know that we all love you, and we want you to be yourself. You shouldn't feel like you have to pretend to be someone that you aren't, just to make us happy."

He shrugged, but I could see a shadowy relief in the back of his eyes. "Rach won't think so. She wants me to be perfect. I wasn't perfect before, and I'm sure not now."

These were all the things that I had imagined him saying for nearly a year. Rachel wanted Finn to be a combination of every Broadway leading man and a perfect house husband. She didn't want him to have a personality or opinions of his own. But I couldn't come out and say any of that. Finn had to come to these conclusions on his own, and he was doing a good job of it.

"Well, at least talk to her. It's ok if you don't want to be in an actual relationship with her, but she's missed you so much. Just tell her that you want to be friends for right now."

He smiled at me. "Yeah, that would be good. I'll just tell her that, you know, I'm not ready to be with her." He brightened. "She probably won't want to be with me any more anyway."

"Why not?" Not that I wasn't secretly hoping that she would get back with Jessie, or Jacob Ben Israel, or anyone but Finn, but I didn't want him to end up hurt.

"When she finds out the truth about what happened, you know, all of it, she's not going to want to be with me any more. She's as big into, like, purity and shit as Quinn was."

Oh no, this was not going well. "Finn, you know what happened to you doesn't count, right? Your first time will still be with the person you _choose_ to be with, and don't let anyone tell you different."

"But it won't be. She won't see it that way, and she's right." He was miserable. "I mean, it can still be awesome to be with someone else, probably, but it won't be the first time. Rach is great, but I don't think that she'll understand that. She'll look at me and know that there's something wrong with me. She'll know that I'm…gross now."

"You aren't." The answer was reflexive, but at least it bought me a little time to think. Finn had suffered so much, from the kidnapping, to Puck's murder, to the trauma of having to adjust back to his new life and family. He was so closed mouthed about his feelings that I had almost forgotten about the sexual trauma he had undergone. Well, not forgotten exactly, but it had just sort of gone to the back of my mind.

But it was obviously at the front of Finn's. This was shaky ground, and I was suddenly afraid that I would make things even worse, no matter what I said. I reached out and took his hand, just to buy myself a little time. "Rachel will understand that you have different needs now, and she'll go along with it, no matter what pace you want." Actually, I wasn't sure about that, since Rachel only moves at Rachel's pace, but it seemed important to make Finn understand.

He squeezed gently. "It's not that. I still want to, it's just…Rach is all like the Virgin Mary or something. Even, before everything happened, it seemed like it would be weird to actually do anything with her. She's like that sort of doll that you don't play with, you just put it on a shelf and talk about how pretty it is and perfect it is. It's not real. You can't count on it for anything. Anyway, Santana."

I wasn't touching that one with a 40 foot pole. "Rachel wants what's best for you, Finn." My voice was higher then usual, strained by what I was trying to convey.

"I know. And I'm really, really, grateful that she does. But…she can't handle anyone's problems but her own. She tries, at least sometimes, but…" He trailed off and shrugged. "She's selfish."

This was the perfect opportunity to tear Rachel apart, but I didn't. That wouldn't serve any purpose at all but to make Finn feel worse. He rambled on, never meeting my eyes, just talking at the worn out boards of our back porch. "I mean, it's not like I didn't know that before, but I didn't care either. Probably because I was selfish, too. But things are different now, and…I don't know, things are different."

"Nothing gold can stay." I repeated my thought from earlier, barely aware that my lips were moving.

"That's pretty. Is it from that Wicked musical you're always blabbing about?" He was now leaning contentedly against me. Even though I knew it was wrong, I rested my head on his arm and smelled deeply. His smell was different then it had been Before, but not in a way I could quite put my finger on.

"No, it's Frost." At his confused look, I tried to clarify. "Robert Frost, the poet?"

"Oh." He clearly had no idea what I was talking about, but was trying, and it was all that I could ask for.

Then he dove in for the kill. "Would _you_ still love me?"

I choked on thin air. "Excuse me?"

"You know almost everything that happened to me. Would you still love me, and still want to be with me, even though you know all that?"

I couldn't tell if he was serious or not. Well, yes, he was serious, but whether he was coming on to me, or just thinking out loud. "Yes."

"She wouldn't. I guess you love me more then she does." It was a surprising comment, and made me look at him. He stared at me, the reflection of the motion light turning his eyes into nothing but bright white spots.

_Perfect moment! Hello, Kurt? Kiss him! If you miss this moment, I swear to Gaga I will smother you in your sleep tonight!_

Before I could either move or tell that voice to go fuck itself, Finn made the choice for me. We were so close that all he had to do was lean a few inches forward, and press his lips to mine. No tongue, no teeth, he didn't even touch the rest of my body, but there were plenty of fireworks. This was what I had been waiting for for almost two years.

_Well, are you going to kiss him back? Kurt! Hello! Do I have to do everything in this relationship?_

The moment was over anyway, and Finn had drawn back to stare at me. I knew he wanted something, but I had no idea what it was.

My brain had stopped functioning. "Why did you do that?"

"I don't know." From the tone of his voice, I could totally believe it. "I just…I don't know."

Pushing at this point would accomplish nothing but upsetting him. "Oh."

"It's not cause I think that you'll fix me or anything. Or cause I want to get rid of Rach. It's just that…is it ok for me to like you because you're you, and because you've been, like, super nice to me?"

This was more of a 'thinking out loud' ramble then an actual declaration of love, but I was willing to take it. Actually, I had a sneaking suspicion that I had been quite the topic of conversation between Finn and his therapist. That he was only wanting me because I he thought I had the power to fix him was more introspective then Finn would have come up with on his own. "It's ok for you to like whoever you want to. What I think, or what Rachel thinks, or what our parents think is immaterial."

"It's immaterial for you to care whether I like you or not? What does that word mean again? Because I'm pretty sure that it isn't what I think it does." 

"Immaterial means that it doesn't matter, because it doesn't. Your feelings are yours, and they can't be wrong. It doesn't matter if I return them or not." It was what I had wanted him to say to me, so long ago.

"Do you? You did once, but that was a long time ago." He shifted back so he was leaning on his elbows. "I get it if you don't."

I leaned back myself and smiled at him, getting a shaky smile in return. "You know I do."

"Cool" I shivered a little in the cool air, and he pulled me up. "Come on, you're cold."

That hadn't really been a cold shiver, but I was willing to let him think that it was. I paused to reset the alarm. "How did you get the code, anyway?"

"Dude, I'm not that stupid. All I had to do was watch you and your Dad turn the alarm on or off. I had to know, so I could get out if I needed to." He was halfway down the steps by now.

Why hadn't I though of that? Furthermore, why had none of us thought to give Finn the code in the first place? He wasn't a prisoner in our house, but I could see where he would feel like one. But it was for his own good. If Finn was out and wandering around loose, the Wrights could have come back and taken him again.

_I don't think that you keeping him a prisoner in his own home if much better then them keeping him a prisoner in theirs. What have I been telling you over and over? Hold Finn with a loose hand, and he'll stay. Try and clutch him, and he'll melt through your fingers._

Finn was standing between the two beds, his eyes questioning. "Where do I sleep?"

I sat on my bed. "What happens now?" Hearing that what had just happened had been a momentary slip in Finn's otherwise heterosexual proclivities would hurt, but I could get over it. But if this went any further…

"Bedtime." He seemed confused that I was even asking. "Unless you wanted to talk more, or something."

"No, I mean between you and me. You can't just kiss me then expect that things won't change between us." I kept my voice a monotone. If Finn wanted to destroy me, he could, and there would be nothing I could do to stop it.

He sighed. "Oh. I don't know."

This was like pulling teeth. "What to you mean, you don't know? If you don't know, why did you kiss me in the first place?"

"Because I wanted to. I just…I had to see if it would be different, if I would like kissing a guy because I wanted to. I didn't like it when Joseph made me kiss him, but I thought that maybe it was just because he was a douche. Also, he didn't brush his teeth as often as he should have.

At least I had oral hygiene going for me. Then the rest of what Finn had said hit me with the force of a freight train. He had wanted to see if kissing a man would be ok if he wanted to do it. So, Finn had _wanted_ to kiss me. The thought was so stunning that my vocal cords, along with every other part of my body, froze up.

While I sat there frozen, Finn kept speaking. "It _was_ different. Which is cool, because, you know, I'm already screwed up. I don't to be completely ruined."

My voice finally unlocked. "So let me get this straight. You kissed me, because you wanted to see if kissing a man felt better when you were the one making the moves, rather then having it forced on you."

"Kind of. But mostly because I wanted to, and because it felt right." He sat on his own bed and watched me, his eyes dark. "When I try to plan stuff, it gets all fucked up. Then shit happens and all my plans are ruined anyway. So I'm just going to go with the flow."

"By kissing me." It was so incredible that I had to keep repeating the point.

"Yeah. Why, did you not like it? I mean, I can do better, but it's not cool to use tongue the first time. The first time should be gentle and romantic and shit." Now he seemed worried. "If you didn't like it, it's fine. We can just pretend it didn't happen and go back to being brothers."

_Kurt, if you let this opportunity pass us up, I will murder you. _

"No! No, I liked it. You just surprised me. After all, I didn't think you were…that you had any interest in guys." I was determined to avoid the 'G' word at all costs. 'Bisexual' was out, too. Both of those words would scare him too much; make him run before any of this ever got started.

_He doesn't need another label. He already has plenty of them. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Selective Mute. Rape Victim. Kidnap Victim. None of those things tell you a damn about who he actually is, just the things that have happened to him. Just love him for who he is, the parts of him that don't have or need a label. _

He shrugged. "I didn't either. But I guess I do." He was calm about it, shockingly calm.

I couldn't resist putting in a little dig. "And that doesn't bother you? Because it sure seemed to bother you before you left."

"No it didn't. I never cared that you were gay, Dude." He seemed genuinely confused, but Finn is a better actor then he sometimes gets credit for.

"Is that true, Finn?" Was it true? Everything that had happened in that last week or so was confused in my mind, blocked out by the trauma that had followed. Had Finn turned on me or had it been my own fault? As hard as I tried, I couldn't remember.

He squirmed. "Well…."

If it was unclear in my mind, it didn't seem to be in his. I pushed the advantage. "Finn?"

"It's not that I didn't still like you, cause I did, and it's not that I, like, thought that someone should hurt you or anything, cause that's just sucky, but…" He trailed off, and now the guilt was back full force in his eyes. "It was just kind of weird. You know, thinking about what gay guys did together. Then you were all in my face all the time and it freaked me out. That's not a good thing, and I'm sorry, but it did. You were acting like you would hurt me."

"I wouldn't have." It was important that Finn understand that, to know that I was different.

"I know. What you did and what he did….it wasn't the same. But I was scared, and I acted like a jerk. I said I was sorry."

"Apology accepted. And, you were right, I guess I could see where I wasn't helping matters any." It hurt to admit, but I wanted Finn and I to be able to start fresh, without the old insecurities or actions plaguing us.

"Yeah, well, I guess I could have just said that I didn't want to. Would that have helped?"

"Probably. But it doesn't matter now. You were right before when you said that everyone was wrong. Neither of us behaved well, and now we've made our peace with ourselves and each other." It was freeing to admit that.

"Does that mean we don't have to talk about it any more? That we're cool now?" Finn was heartbreakingly hopeful. He didn't really hold grudges, and he hated having a grudge held against him.

"Yes, Finn, it means we're cool." I barely got the words out before he jumped across the beds and gave me an enthusiastic hug. Then he pulled back and held out a fist.

I might be gay, and I might have gone through my entire childhood with a complete lack of friends, but I knew an invitation for a fist bump when I saw one. So I bumped back, delighting in the way it made Finn smile. "So, where are you sleeping?"

"My bed." He didn't' sound as confident as he probably wanted to, but I chose not to mention it. "Now that…I just don't want there to be any confusion and shit." He smiled at me, but it was a strained, nervous, smile.

I was confused, but I didn't want him to see that. "Whatever makes you the most comfortable. If you change your mind, though, you're welcome to come over."

"Kay." He snuggled into his own bed, shifting around until the covers were exactly how he liked them, and laying one arm over Wolf. I raised an eyebrow at him. "You are the fussiest person when it comes you your bed, I swear to Prada." 

One eye opened. "Well, I spend 10 hours a night in it. I might as well be comfortable."

Simple, irrefutable logic. "All right. I'll see you tomorrow."

The eye closed again. "Am I still going to Mr. Shue's?"

I had forgotten about that. Carole and I were going to go out to eat, followed by me helping her choose some nice outfits for dates with my father. Now that they had been going out for a while, he really needed to step up his game and take her to some nicer places. Also, I was hoping that we could go on a family vacation. Somewhere nice and with good shopping and I was _still_ damning the fact that Rachel Berry got to go to France and I didn't. There was no justice in the world, I swear.

"Kurt?" Finn sounded half asleep, but he was with me enough to repeat his question. "I still get to go, right? This whole thing didn't fuck that up or anything?"

"No, you're going. Just lunch this time, but I'm sure the two of your will have a good afternoon." Finn had become so suspicious of everyone's motives since he had come back. To him, any good thing offered was only being dangled in front of him so it could be snatched away or used to further manipulate him.

"Good." He rolled over contentedly so his back was to me. "Night, Kurt."

"Night, Cowboy." His breathing grew even very quickly, turning to soft snores and mumbles. I stayed awake, thinking about everything that had happened, and what it meant now. The fact that Finn had kissed me still had my lips tingling, and I was afraid that if I went to sleep, I would wake up and find out that none of this had actually happened.

But what did that actually mean? Finn was clear that he had kissed me because he liked me, and because he had wanted to, but that didn't necessarily mean that he was sexually attracted to me. Finn was a lovey, kissy sort of guy.

_No, Finn _used_ to be a lovey, kissy, sort of guy. Now he's a skittish, 'don't touch me' sort of guy. Except where you're concerned. You know what this means, deep down. Just relax and let it happen._

It wasn't until I was almost asleep that Finn's words came back to me. _I just don't want there to be any confusion and shit. _What that actually meant was that Finn was afraid that if he got in bed with me after kissing me, I would expect more then he was willing to give. It hurt, but I had to keep reminding myself that it was nothing personal.

Laying there in the darkness, I bit my lip, thinking over all that this was going to entail. Loving Finn no longer meant just loving Finn. It meant loving him, and accepting his new limitations, that there were things he might never feel comfortable doing. It meant that I had to understand that the Finn I had fallen in love with was gone, replaced by this new person. I could love this person as well, I already did, but the changes were something we both had to come to terms with. Chronologically, I still had two months on Finn, but, by sheer virtue of surviving, he had somehow become older then me.

Not more mature by any stretch of the imagination, but older. He didn't act like a 17 year old boy should, and he probably never would. He wouldn't be as reckless, or as carefree, but maybe those weren't bad things. Maybe those were things that would help Finn slow down and evaluate his situation better, rather then flying off the handle at imagined slights.

Finn twitched and mumbled softly to himself. I listened closely, but I couldn't understand him. Maybe there was nothing to understand. This was Finn, after all. For the most part, what you saw was what you got, especially since he had started talking again.

_Of course he is. You knew all along that he was going to kiss you tonight. Bullshit. Finn's far more mysterious then you give him credit for, Kurt. But you know that, don't you? Deep down, you know that. And, because you know it, you know what you have to do._

Yes to both of those things. I knew what I was doing, and even when I didn't, doing anything was better then doing nothing, right? Right. Maybe.

Right before I fell asleep, I leaned over and whispered "I love you, Finn" to the other side of the room. There was no response, but that was alright. There would come a time for me to say that, and Finn to say it back without fear. I could wait.

_Finally, he gets it._


	24. Chapter 24

**The quickest way to know a woman is to go shopping with her. ~Marcelene Cox**

At some point between 3 and seven this morning, Finn decided to crawl in bed with me after all. That wasn't particularly surprising. What was surprising, however, was the fact that he had managed to do it without waking me up. Finn might be growing into himself, but for now he was still all arms and legs, clumsy and awkward. Not to mention, I was skittish and startled awake easily. By all rights, he should have woken me up as soon as he touched the comforter. But I hadn't, so it was a shock to wake up this morning with my head on Finn's chest, feeling his breathing quicken as he dreamed.

I patted his back, and got a soft sigh in response. His rapid breathing slowed, though, and I hoped that, whatever he was dreaming about, it had become more pleasant.

_Maybe it was pleasant to start with. After all, we both know that nightmares aren't the only sort of dreams that cause panting like that…_

A part of me wanted to pretend I had no idea what that meant, while the other was busy blushing an amazing shade of red. That was something I had never even considered, but it probably needed to be thought about. You really couldn't put two 17 year old boys in the same bed night after night, and not have…well, to use Finn's crude terminology 'something pop up'. I felt almost dizzy at the thought. Finn didn't even like taking his shirt off in front of me, much less anything else. Even now he was wearing a long sleeved shit and sweats, despite the relative warmth of the basement. He had insisted on changing after we came back it, adding more layers in a belated attempt to protect himself from what he was been discussing. Sex had gone from 'hell yeah!' to the thing he didn't even want to acknowledge existed.

_That damage could be permanent. If you want to try this thing with Finn, and I'm not saying not to, but if you want to, you need to do a little research first. For Prada's sake, this is what the internet was invented for! Or talk to his therapist. She can tell you about whether or not this is a good idea._

Samantha couldn't discuss Finn, she had told us that the very first day. Too bad, because I could use a professional's opinion on this.

_No, no, you misunderstood. What I was actually trying to say, in the nicest possible way, was that making an appointment with the therapist for yourself is not the worst idea ever. Then you can ask about Finn, without directly asking about Finn. Plus, I think a little head work would do you some good. And, yes, before you make some snarky comment, I did mean both kids of head work._

That was gross. And true. While I was still thinking about it, Finn stirred and woke up. Then he squinted at the clock and groaned. "Kurt? It's too fucking early. How come you're awake?"

"I have things to take care of before your mother and I leave for our shopping. You can go back to sleep, though." From the way his eyelids were drooping, I could tell that it wouldn't be a long journey.

"You'll be ok? You'll wake me up if you need me?" He was already rearranging himself on the bed, snuggling deeply into-hey, was that _my_ pillow? Sure enough, Finn had left his own pillow on his bed, and decided to share mine.

_Oh, like you care._

I chose to ignore that. "I will absolutely wake you up if I need you. If not, I'll get you up around 10."

He gave a sleepy grumble and snuggled back down, his breathing going slow and even. "Ok, then."

My laptop was fully charged, and I took it upstairs to do a little research. Dad's car was gone, so he must have been at work. I grabbed a grapefruit and sliced it expertly while the computer booted up, thinking lazily. Once I was done eating breakfast, I wiped my fingers on a premoistened towelette and opened Google. Now, what was I supposed to search? Taking a deep breath, I goggled 'dating a rape victim'.

9 million hits. There were 9 million different sites about the ins and outs of dating someone who had been sexually assaulted. Because it happened that often. My stomach rolled, even though I already knew it. My previous research on kidnapping had led me to more then a few sites on sexual assault, and I had always had a good memory for numbers. One in four girls, and one in six boys would be sexually assaulted before they reached the age of 18. So yeah, that was more then 9 million right there.

I sifted through the sites, coming up with nothing applicable. Most of the sites were geared towards men who were dating women, so I narrowed the search to 'dating a male rape victim'.

That was better. Barely a million hits, but there were plenty of them the focused on gay relationships. None of them told me anything that my instincts hadn't, though. Go slowly, always listen and allow them an out, and don't focus too much on the past. That as long as I respected Finn and what he needed, there was no reason we couldn't have a normal relationship, including sex. At least one had message boards that offered support for both parties. Should I?

Deciding that I needed to at least try, I signed up and got myself a screen name. Without revealing too many details, I noted that I was a 17 year old boy, and the boy that I was interested in had suffered multiple sexual assaults over a period of 6 months. I noted that he had kissed me, and that I was very interested in having a relationship with him, but that I wasn't sure how to approach things. I did not mention that this would be a pseudo-incestuous relationship, not did I note that I had never had a relationship of any sort. I also said nothing about the kidnapping itself. Not only were those unneeded additions, but they might make Finn too identifiable. Plus, it was kind of depressing .

I figured that it would take a while to get any replies, so scanned over the other posts, curious about other people's experiences. Some of the posts were like mine, asking for advice for a brand new partner, some were from men whose long time partners had been assaulted. I appeared to be the youngest one posting. Was that because other teenagers just didn't know about their boyfriends pasts? Or did most people just find a different guy?

There was a sound on the steps, and I scrawled the address down, quickly deleting my history. I doubted that Finn would bother looking, since he couldn't even remember to delete his own history, but I didn't want to take any chances. 

Carole appeared, smiling gently at me. "Morning, baby. Have you laid out a plan of attack for today?"

Please. I had laid out the plan of attack as soon as she agreed to the shopping trip. "I thought that we could hit some of the outlet malls before lunch, just for some basics, then eat an early lunch, then go to some of the more upscale places. That way we'll have enough time to do everything and still pick Finn up on time."

"That sounds wonderful." She rummaged around in the fridge. "Is your brother moving around down there?"

Hearing her call Finn 'your brother' made me realize that, if I did decide to pursue something with Finn, it would affect not only us, but Dad and Carole as well. "He woke up when I did, but I think he went back to sleep." 

Was it my imagination, or was her gaze lingering on me just a little too long? I wondered what she wasn't saying, and insecurities surged back up. "You do want to go with me, right? It's ok if you don't." Even though I tried to sound like I didn't care, I could hear the misery in my voice.

"Of course I want to go with you. I've never met anyone who knows as much about fashion and making someone look good as you do. Plus, you and I are family now, and we need to get to know each other better."

I looked down so she wouldn't see the tears that had popped up in my eyes. "Good."

"That teacher of yours said that he would be glad to take Finn at 9:30. I wasn't sure if either one of you would be awake then, so I told him I would give him a call."

Figuring that Dad could be trusted to heat up the casserole while Carole and I drove home, and we would eat about 6, one hour for lunch….8 hours of pure shopping. Damn, I loved life some days. "Finn will be up and ready to leave this house by 9:15, I swear it on my life."

She chuckled. "I believe it. Do you want me to make you some breakfast?"

"I ate, but thank you."

She glanced over at my plate. "Did you eat anything besides a piece of fruit?" At my guilty head shake, she clucked her tongue. "Kurt, if we are going to shop all day, you're going to need more fuel then that. How about some eggs?"

At least she was offering the good kind of cholesterol. "Sunny side up?" I could make them myself, but it was tricky, and one of those things that I sometimes really wanted someone else to do for me.

"Of course. Three?" Carole was always after me to eat more, even though I ate the right amount for my size. She was just so used to feeding Finn that normal portions looked tiny to her.

"Two please." I poured myself a glass of milk and set it at my place. "I'm going to go wake Finn up." He wouldn't be happy, but it was almost 8:30, and he was going to need to take a shower and be ready to go out the door in the next 45 minutes.

Still, he looked so sweet lying there, completely relaxed and snuggled into my comforter. I reached out and shook his shoulder. "Finn? Time to wake up."

He grumbled and pressed his face deeper into the pillow. I shook again. "Finn, if you don't get up, I'm sending you to Mr. Shue's hungry."

"He'll feed me." His eyes didn't open, but he was with me.

"Not if you don't shower. If you don't take a shower no one is going to want to be anywhere near you." I continued to shake his shoulder as hard as I could.

"You didn't care last night." He yawned his way though his words.

I couldn't deny that, so I went in a different direction and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Finn, I want to get an early start shopping with your mother. If you don't get up now, then we're going to be late, and I won't be able to do everything I want to. Will you please get up?"

"Ok." He sat up, rubbing at his eyes. "Cause you asked nice and everything."

Was that really all it took? Asking nicely and explaining the very reasonable reason why I wanted things to be done my way? "Take a quick shower while I eat, then get something for yourself. Your mother is not your slave, and she is not required to do your cooking for you."

"Is she cooking for _you_?" Finn is doing better about waking up quickly and getting into the swing of things.

"That isn't the point. The point is you, shower, now!" I tickled his stomach, making him laugh. Apparently touching him over the clothes was ok, something I filed away for future reference.

Once I was sure that Finn was actually going to get up and do what he had promised, I ran back upstairs to find Carole putting my eggs on a plate. "Perfect timing."

She sat down across the table, making sure that I ate. She didn't try to force the conversation, something that I appreciated. When Dad did that, it sometimes felt like he was ignoring me, but I was sure that Carole would be glad to speak to me if I wanted.

About the time I finished my eggs, Finn came racing up the stairs. He sidled up to Carole, looking as cute as possible. "Mom, will you make pancakes? Please?"

"Absolutely not. If you wanted pancakes, you should have gotten up earlier." Apparently as cute as possible didn't cut it this time.

Finn wasn't deterred. "But you can't do that! If I was supposed to get up early to get pancakes, you have to tell me that the night before. You don't change the rules in the middle of the game, it's not fair."

"When have you ever been allowed to get up a half hour before you need to leave and still get a special treat? You can have cereal or toast, take your pick. But we're leaving in a half hour whether you've eaten or not."

I would have thought that Finn would kick up a fuss, but he just gave an overdramatic sigh and grabbed a box of cereal out of the cabinet. I wondered if this was what things were usually like between them. Finn and Carole hadn't lived with us long enough Before for me to know. But if it was, this was a good sign. It meant that things were getting back to normal between them, and by extension, the rest of us.

I had had an outfit picked out since Carole had first suggested this outing, so it was a simple matter to run down and get changed. I made sure that my freckles were covered (taking care to keep an ear out for Finn, because I did not need him suddenly remembering, and bringing back up, the concealor issue) and tied a scarf around my neck.

"You look pretty." I jumped about a mile in the air, spinning to come face to face with Finn, who had somehow managed to come stealthily down the stairs. Shocking, considering that he usually hit the wall at least twice on his way down. "Dude pretty, though, not chick pretty."

I was just going to accept that compliment in the spirit it was given. "Thank you. Do you need help picking an outfit?" I always asked, and he indulged me about half the time.

"Sure."

Actually, now that I thought about it, I wasn't quite sure when Finn had started letting me choose his outfits. Not when he first came back, I was sure of it. It was only now, long after he first agreed, that I could see the gesture for what it was, which was a form of surrender. He was trusting me to make decisions for him, taking away a little bit of his independence. Considering how jealously he guarded that these days, it was a little shocking that I hadn't seen the magnitude of the gesture before.

I always tried to keep in mind that my fashion choices tended to be a little too…adventurous for Finn, and adjust myself accordingly, but the longing to put him in something that actually flattered him was always there. I walked over to his drawers and chose a dark pair of jeans and a grey long sleeved shirt with thin green stripes. Finn called it his Harry Potter shirt, for reasons I didn't quite follow. "Good?"

"Good." He took the clothes into the bathroom so he could change. Finn was changing, but he wasn't sure enough to let me see him undressed, even for a second.

"Wear the white and green Converses with that!" Why was it so hard for people to understand that shoes were a vital part of an outfit? Sometimes they were _the_ vital part of an outfit.

"Yeah, yeah." It was an irritated grumble, and I backed off. There was no point in getting him all riled up right before we sent him somewhere else. "Did you tell Mr. Shue that I can talk now?"

"No, I thought you might like to tell him that yourself." Not to mention I was a little nervous about getting Mr. Shue all excited, only to have Finn choke at the last second.

"Yeah, that's good." He sounded incredibly pleased with the thought. "It's better if I tell him myself. He's going to be really, really excited."

Yes, he would. Finn was Mr. Shue's undisputed favorite, a designation that everyone else accepted for the most part, even if we slightly resented it. But Finn was so good natured about it all that it was hard to stay angry with him. Unlike a certain Ms. Berry, who was far more disliked…

_Just leave her alone. Do you really want to revisit old rivalries this year, or would you rather just let it go, for Finn's sake. Hell, for everyone's sake. The rest of the Glee Club is probably a little tired of watching Clash of the Battling Divas. Remember this is for Finn._

Speaking of Finn, he had just come out of the bathroom, dressed and nicely groomed. He held out his arms, allowing me to check him out completely. "Good. You meet the Kurt Hummel seal of approval."

"That's a first." He sat down on the floor and put on his shoes, patiently tying, then retying them until he had it right. That was Finn for you. He was a little slow at times, but he just kept plugging along until he got it right.

"There's a first time for everything. Now, are you ready?" I held out my hand, curious about whether or not he would take it now, in the light of day.

He did. "I'm ready ready ready. You'll take good care of Mom, right? Make sure that everything goes good for her?"

It was cute that he was so protective of her. It was even more cute because I knew that he was going to corner Carole and ask her the same thing about me. Sure enough, he shot me a look out of the corner of his eye and gestured Carole over, whispering to her while I pretended to look for a jacket. She smiled and gave him a quick kiss.

Again, I was the one to take Finn up to Mr. Shue's apartment. He greeted us happily. "Morning, Kurt! You have the number if you need me. Finn, got a preference for movies?"

He drew a deep breath. "I brought Blades of Glory!"

_Oh, please God, let him forget it here._

Mr. Shue broke into a huge smile. "Well look who's talking! I've missed that voice of yours, Finn."

"Yeah, I kind of missed it, too." With that Finn bounced past him. "Bye Kurt! Take care of Mom!"

Carole smiled at me when I got back in the car. "He do ok?"

I knew what she was really asking. "Chatting away with Mr. Shue."

"Good. Now, you'll have to give me some directions here. Unless you would rather drive?"

Dad hated for me to drive when he was riding. He said it was going to give him a heart attack, which is just not true. If anything is going to get his heart, it's the pork fat and bloomin' onions he insists on inhaling. "Really?" 

She held out the keys. "Honey, riding with you can't be any worse then riding with Finn. At least you've never hit anyone."

"Finn hit someone?" I was already switching seats with her, just so she would have no excuse to change her mind.

"It was an accident, and don't tell him that I told you, but yes. Now, to be fair, the man jumped out from between two parked cars without looking where he was going, and Finn hadn't been driving long. No one was seriously hurt."

"I won't tell him that you told me, don't worry." It made me feel good to know that Carole and I had a secret. Not her and Dad, not her and Finn, but her and me. It was a feeling that I had almost forgotten, sharing something like that with my mother. Well, not my _mother_ mother, but she was more to me then just being Finn's mom now. Better then a stepmother, almost. Then it got a little weird to think about, so I mentally changed the subject. "So, let's talk about you and what we're going to do with you today. I'm thinking some longer skirts, and a few nice dresses. Then Dad will have to take you to Canton or Cleveland, maybe even for a romantic weekend."

She smiled gently. "That would be lovely, but what would we do with you boys?"

"We're big boys; we can take care of each other for three days." At her meaningful look, I sighed. "Or maybe Mercedes would take us both?"

"We'll see about taking a family vacation during winter break. But I would like to look prettier for your father. You can choose where we eat for lunch, as well."

"Can we have Chinese?" I tried not to sound too excited, since acting like a five year old is never a good look, but I couldn't quite help it.

"Of course." By this time we were at the first outlet mall, so I found us a spot and parked. I kept close to her side as we walked in, always making sure that I could see exactly where she was. Finn had trusted me to take care of her, and I wasn't going to let him down.

Shopping at the first two places went very well, with us buying a few simple pieces and some jewelry. My father loved green, and those earrings would knock his socks off.

It wasn't until the third place and second hour of shopping, though, that things got interesting. I was standing quietly outside the dressing room, waiting for to see if that sweater highlighted her figure or just made her look like she was trying to be 25 again. Other women gave me slightly odd looks, but I stood firm. Apparently, now knowing how to dress was a congenital flaw in the Hudson family, one I was determined to rectify at all costs.

"Ok, how does it look?" She held out her arms and spun, looking exactly like Finn had earlier.

I gave it a critical eye. It looked great, but I was going to have to make sure that she paired it with dark slacks or a plain skirt. Otherwise she was going to look trampy. "Buy it."

"Alright." As she turned, another woman smiled at her. "Your son is just adorable. I wish my boy would come shopping with me."

Wait, these women thought that Carole was actually my mother? We both froze, staring at each other. Finally she recovered her voice. "I'm very blessed. Kurt, are you ready?"

"Yes C-M-C-Ma'am." I stuttered pathetically, realizing too late that calling her Carole would make me look stupid, but I couldn't call her 'mom' either. Blended families were confusing sometimes.

We were back in the car before she spoke again. "I'm sorry, Kurt, I didn't know what I should have said. How do you want me to handle things like that in the future?"

How _did_ I want her to handle it? She wasn't my mother, but it was kind of nice to have someone think that she was. It did surprise me that she would want to claim me, though. Not many women wanted to deal with an obviously gay teenager, much less one that wasn't even theirs. "Well, in a situation like this, where we're never going to see them again anyway, you can tell them you're my mom. You know, if you want to." I could feel my face flaming, and I made myself look down. Now was the moment of truth. Did she only love me because I came as a package deal with Dad, or was there something more?

"I would like that. What would you like me to say with people we might see again? That you're my stepson? My boyfriends son?"

_How about my son's boyfriend?_

"Are you going to marry my father?" It was the first time I had had the courage to even think about it.

She blanched. "Well, I don't want to get ahead of things. With everything that's happened in the past few months, I think we need a little more time to bond as a family before we make any decisions like that."

"But if we're already bonding as a family, then aren't you two as good as married?" I had wanted to get rid of her at first, when I finally figured out that having her and Finn around meant having my fathers attention split three ways instead of just on me, but now I couldn't imagine life without them. We were a patchwork family, but a family just the same.

"I guess that's true. But, anyway, your father and I not getting married right now, because he hasn't asked me yet. So there's your answer."

I couldn't contest that. "Well, what if he asked? Would you say yes?"

Her face softened. "I don't know. I love your father very much, but it's not just him and me. I would need to talk to both you and Finn, and see how you boys felt about it. If we all felt good about moving forward, yes, I would marry your father." She was trying to be as diplomatic as possible.

"Oh." Luckily, I was merging into traffic, so I had an excuse to drop the line of conversation. "Can we stop for lunch?"

"Sure." She was fiddling with her phone. "Do you think I should try and call Mr. Shuester?"

I didn't want to let on that I had done the same thing the day Mercedes and I went to the spa. "If you think you need to. I'll find a place to eat."

Finn still doesn't have a cell phone of his own. The one he had been carrying the night he had been kidnapped had been taken into evidence, where it still was for all I knew. Since he was always in our sight after he came back, he hadn't needed one. But now that he was venturing out, he was going to need to get another one. His life was branching off of ours again and, even thought I knew it was a good and needed thing; it still tugged at my heart a bit. "Do you have Mr. Shue's number?"

She was already dialing. "Hi, is this Mr. Shuester? It's Carole Hudson, Finn's mother? Can I talk to my boy?" There was a pause, and her face broke into a smile. "Hi, Finn, how are things going?...You do? Well, do you want to tell me now?...Ok, I'll wait until I pick you up….Yes, I'm taking good care of Kurt…Do you want to talk to him?...Well, he's trying to park, so you'll have to wait for a few minutes….Are you behaving yourself? Because I _will_ find out if you're not being a good guest….Ok, here he is, I love you."

I took the phone, uncomfortably aware of the fact that Carole was watching me closely. "Hi, Cowboy."

"Hi, Kurt!" He sounded out of breath and overexcited. What in the world were he and Mr. Shue doing over there? "Guess what? I have a huge surprise for you and Mom and everyone!" I could just imagine the excited wiggling thing that he was doing right now.

"Really? What's the surprise?" I was a little afraid to know.

"I can't tell you! That's why it's a surprise. Are you taking good care of Mom?"

There was something charming about the way he said that, like he thought I hadn't just overheard that he had asked Carole the same thing. "I am. We've gotten her some beautiful outfits and some nice jewelry."

"Cool. You're coming back at five, right? You'll both come back and get me?" A hint of anxiety had crept into his voice.

"We will be there at five. If for any reason we'll be late, I'll call. I'll see you in a few hours." I was starting to suspect that Finn's worries were going to take a long time to extinguish, if they ever fully did.

"Ok. Bye, Kurt. Tell Mom I love her."

"Will do. Bye Finn." It didn't escape my notice that he didn't say that he loved me, but I guessed it might be a little soon for that.

I hung up and looked at Carole. "So, he says he has a surprise."

"He told me that, too. I'm a little afraid, to be honest. The last time he sounded this excited about a surprise, I found a baby squirrel hidden in his closet. He had named him Peanut and was convinced that I would let him keep the darn thing if he showed me how well he had already taken care of it for four days."

That was so unbelievably cute. "Did you?"

"Of course not. It was a wild animal, and it needed to be set free. Finn was disappointed, of course, but he believed me when I told him that the rehabilitator I was taking to would take it back to its mother."

"He really does need a pet of some sort." Maybe I could swallow my pride and let him get a rat. From what I understood, they were kind of neat, and could even learn tricks. Finn was being more responsible lately, so maybe he could be trusted to clean the cage, and keep it fed. "I guess he and I can work something out."

"You're such a good boy." She smiled at me, and I smiled back. "Is this the place you want to try?"

"Yes." I had no idea where we were, but I was hungry and there were the right sort of letters on the sign. "This is good."

We were seated quickly, which was about enough time for me to realize that we were way out of our league here. There was not a single letter of English anywhere on the menu, and I didn't read Chinese. French and Spanish, yes. Any eastern language? No.

Carole looked at me over the menu. "Do you have any idea what any of this is?" 

I leaned close. "No."

"Should we bail, or do you think we can pull this off?" She gave me a conspiratorial wink.

Dad would have never asked that. He would have insisted that we leave, and then stop for burgers or pizza on the way back. This was a challenge, and I was sure we could rise to the occasion. "Let's stay."

"Ok, we can do this. Just point to something on the menu, and pray we don't get served something inedible."

As it turned out, Carole ended up served a vegetarian dish, and I was given….oh God, was that an octopus? Its quarter sized eyes were still staring up at me. Also, was it my imagination, or was the waiter smirking at me?

Now eating the disgusting thing was a point of pride, so I started cutting. It was…chewy. Not yummy or fishy or even meatlike. But I had seen Finn eat a furry Poptart that he found under the couch, so I was pretty sure that it wouldn't kill me. I still couldn't look directly at it, but I would sooner die then beg for a different entrée.

I was about halfway done when Carole took a deep breath. "Kurt, we need to have a talk. "

Here it came. Nothing good ever came from those words, no matter how good the day had been so far. I set my utensils down and gave her my full attention. "Ok." I was proud of how steady I sounded. Now, as long as she couldn't see the sudden glaze in my eyes, this could still go alright.

"You know that I love you very much, and that I love your father, too. But Finn is my son, and I'm the only parent he has left. He has to come first for me, because there is no one else to stand up for him."

"I can stand up for him. Dad can, if Finn would let him. Whatever Finn needs, we can all do it, as a family." After everything we had said, she was about to break up with us.

"That's just it." She took a deep, steadying breath. "Kurt, I want you to understand that I'm not bringing this up to upset you or humiliate you. I'm doing it for Finn, and for you, too, because I love you both so much. I'm just going to come right out and ask: What do you want with Finn?"

She had noticed. Oh, God, Carole had seen the way I looked at Finn, and now she thought I was some sort of creepy pervert who would violate her son, who had already been violated in the worst way possible. "I…." To my horror, the tears started so spill over.

Carole saw it immediately. "Kurt, don't cry." Her voice was gentle. "I'm just trying to figure out what's going on here. It's ok if you like Finn like that, or if you don't. But I have to know. Because Finn's been through enough, and his heart's been broken too many times this year."

I choked the tears down and stared at my lunch. It stared back, mocking me. "I love him." It came out soft and miserable. "I wouldn't break his heart, Carole, I swear. And I wouldn't hurt him either."

She sighed. "Well, I guess we do have an unconventional family already. This isn't the worst thing that could happen."

Why wasn't she freaking out? "How did you know?" 

"Kurt, I'm going to tell you something. You're a very smart boy, and you don't seem to have much trouble fooling your father. But I'm a mother, and you don't fool me that easily. I've seen the way you act with Finn, and the way you look at him. You Hummel men are just alike. You look at Finn the way I look at your father."

"I'm sorry. Please don't hate me." Also? Gross. I hated thinking about her and my father doing anything other then looking deep into each other's eyes and possibly holding hands.

_Yes, because they share a bed upstairs just to cuddle. Grow up, Kurt. They cuddle, and they kiss and guess what else they do? It's spelled S-E-X._

"I don't hate you. I keep telling you, I love you very much. But do you understand why I'm worried about this? Finn isn't ready for a relationship right now. He's not ready for life."

_I beg to differ. Well, not about the not being ready for life part, I agree completely there, but Finn's ready for a relationship. Actually, he needs one. He needs that tie for what's coming ahead._

I clasped my hands together under the table, squeezing so tightly that my fingernails were cutting into my palms. "I can wait for him to be ready. He….he's special, Carole, I know he is. This is different from just some crush." _He kissed me. _The words rattled in my brain, but I knew better then to let them out.

"Kurt, I'm his mother. You don't need to tell me that he's special. But you know that you're just as special. I don't want to see you spend all this time on Finn, and hurt any relationship you have as brothers, only to find out that he'll never be ready for the kind of relationship you want." She rubbed at her temples. "This is coming out all wrong. Maybe this is too soon, and I should have had your father have this talk with you."

"Please, God, no." The words came out without any conscious thought. Having Carole talk about my crush on Finn was bad enough, but Dad? Dad who could barely bring himself to use the word 'gay'? I would die of humiliation before the first sentence was out. "Dad's just….he's not good with feelings."

Then I noticed something else. Carole had never once said that she didn't think Finn was attracted to me. She was more worried about his ability to cope with a sexual relationship after the abuse he had suffered. Carole's direct stare was making me squirm, but I had to remember that Finn and I were no longer Finn and I. We were the Hudson-Hummel family now. "If you really want me to leave him alone, I will. I can be a good brother, too."

She sighed. "No. If it's meant to be, then it's meant to be. I was only 16 when I met Christopher, and only 21 when I had Finn. So I understand that it's possible to find the right man very early. But Chris and I didn't have the same hurdles to jump that you and Finn would, and that scares me."

"It scares me, too." I poked at my octopus, and it jiggled happily. "But I can't give him up just because I'm scared. He's worth jumping all those hurdles."

Carole sat back in her chair. "If you're willing to fight for him, then you have my approval to date Finn. At least you aren't going to pretend to be pregnant in an effort to trap him into a relationship."

It broke some of the tension and made me laugh. She laughed along with me. "Do you want to have them pack up your squid, or should we just pay and leave?"

I swear that disgusting thing waved one of its little tentacles at me. "Well, Carole…um….you know that normally I refuse to let any food go to waste but….Carole, it's looking at me! And I think it's an octopus, not a squid."

"What's the difference? We'll just leave it. I don't even think that Finn would eat that, and if Finn won't touch it, it's unsalvageable. Out to the car and we'll get an ice cream cone later."

Obviously, she was used to having to bribe to get things done. I didn't require empty calories to elicit good behavior. But maybe a small vanilla cone wouldn't hurt. Maybe. After all, Carole and I _were_ bonding, and I didn't want to do anything to ruin that.

I did wait until we were in the car before I asked what I really wanted to know. I picked at my sleeves and made my voice tiny. "Do you think I have a chance with Finn?"

"I do." She shook her head at my shocked expression. "Kurt, Finn came out of my body. I've raised him for 17 years, and almost 16 of those were as a single parent. Just us. I don't really have any other family and Christopher's parents…." She trailed off, apparently thinking better of what she was about to say. "Anyway, there is nothing about him that I don't know, no facial expression I can't read. He looks at you like you hung the moon, Kurt."

"That doesn't mean he loves me. It just means that he needs me." I didn't know why I was arguing with her, especially since she was saying everything that I had hoped she would.

"Can't it be both?" She had a Cheshire cat smile going on that reminded me very strongly of Finn's.

"I guess it could." I sounded significantly perkier. "Yeah, I guess it could. Ok, now, no more excuses. You, me, and the most beautiful red dress that Ohio has to offer." I held up a hand, hopeful that we could change the subject.

She let me go with the sort of grace that only mothers can manage. "Let's do it."

4 hours later, we had done it. Carole had found two dresses, complete with shoes and accessories. Oh, yeah, I was good. I was better then good. I was Kurt Hummel, and I was king here.

_Too bad the king doesn't get anything for himself.  
_

That _was_ a tragedy, but I was under strict orders from Dad that this was as shopping trip for Carole and Carole only. I would be going shopping for Finn and myself in a few weeks. Even if those scarves over near the register were crying for someone who would actually know how to properly use them.

Carole followed my eyes. "Go get one."

"You don't wear a scarf with those dresses. Those dresses call for an understated necklace and earrings."

She laughed. "You've told me that four times. No, I meant go get one for yourself. After all the hard work you've put in today, you deserve something nice."

I wavered. "Dad said not to." Even though I really, really wanted to.

Carole wasn't at all afraid. "It can be our little secret." I must have still looked uncertain, because she actually nudged me forward. "Come on, do you honestly think that I don't know your father is sneaking Finn Coke and gummy worms every time my back is turned? It's just how things go. As far as I know, that scarf has always been in your collection."

With that affirmation (and a barely restrained squeal that I would go to my grave insisting I had never made), I shot over to the rack, caressing the expensive silk. Green would look fantastic with my new sweater, but there was a cream on that would match everything, but how could I turn down the exquisite purple and-

_Finn thinks you look good in red._

And, yes, Finn thought I looked good in red. Since I was trying to impress him, red it was. I chose the best offering and all but floated back over to Carole. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Maybe Carole was as lost in her thoughts as I was in mine, because there was very little conversation on the ride back to Lima. We would be right on time to get Finn, which would ease his mind. I gave him a quick call to let him know we were almost there, and he insisted that we both come up, because of the surprise that both Carole and I had somehow forgotten.

She parked and took a deep breath. "Are you as afraid of his surprise as I am?"

"Yeah." There was no way to say what I wanted to without it being awkward so I just decided to blurt it out. "I would say yes. I mean, if my Dad asked you to marry him, and you wanted to know if it was ok with me and Finn. I would say it was ok for you two to get married." The words came out in a rush better suited to Finn, but there they were, and I could never call them back.

She stroked my shoulder. "Thank you, Kurt. I know that wasn't easy for you to say."

I was too embarrassed to reply, so I just slid out of the car and marched resolutely towards Mr. Shue's apartment. Carole understood and followed me in silence, giving me the space I needed.

Finn must have been listening at the door because he flung it open before we could even knock. "You're here, you're here! I've been waiting forever! Come on and I can tell you about the surprise!"

Obviously Mr. Shue had been giving him candy again. Carole squeezed her son tightly and Finn nuzzled contentedly against her, soothed slightly by the contact. Once he was no longer spinning out of control, he cocked his head at us. "Did you have fun shopping for…stuff?"

I appreciated his attempt at politeness, even though he had no idea where we had been going. This despite the fact that I had told him no less then five times. "We did. Your mother is a beautiful woman."

He looked Carole up and down, then smiled. "Well, yeah. I could have told you that. She was always beautiful. You just made her all, like, glamorous."

Mr. Shue popped his head out. "Did you tell them, Finn?"

If he didn't tell us soon, I was afraid that he would burst right through the ceiling. "No, he hasn't. Tell us your big surprise."

He took a deep breath. "Ok. So, you know how you're going to home school me this year?" At Carole's nod, he kept going. "So, Mr. Shuester says that I can go on Homebound learning, which means that they send a teacher to me, but I'm still a student at McKinley. You know, technicality."

"Technically." I corrected him automatically.

Carole gave him a puzzled look. "Well, that would make it easier for me, not having to find you a tutor, but Finn; I've never seen you so excited about your schoolwork."

"I'm not excited about that!" Finn sounded insulted. "Why would I be excited about stupid old math? No, if I'm still a student at McKinley, I'm still eligible to participate in extracurricular activities."

Carole still looked a little confused, but I got it. Sudden joy raced through my body, filling my chest and making me almost as excited as Finn. I didn't want to steal his thunder, though, so I set him up perfectly. "And if you're still a student at McKinley…."

"I can still be in the Glee club!" He was so excited he was all but spinning in circles. "Mom, isn't it great!" 

"It _is_ great, Finn!" She squeezed him again, and he hugged her back enthusiastically. "I'm thrilled that things are finally going right for you"

"I know! I mean, I kind of suck now, because I haven't practiced or anything, but I can get better. Mr. Shue said that he'd help me, right Mr. Shue?"

"Absolutely. Just give me a call ahead of time, so I can make sure I'm here." He was smiling, pleased that he had been able to help Finn out.

"He's dating Ms. Pillsbury." Finn sounded beyond smug. "Again."

"Finn, not everybody needs to know that." Mr. Shue sounded a little bit uncomfortable, probably because there were rules against dating your coworker.

"It's just Mom and Kurt. I tell them everything." He bounced around some more. "Can I take some of the cookies home?"

"Yes, we made them for you to share with your family. Plates are above the toaster; just make sure you leave me a few." He looked back at Carole as Finn bounded off. "He's a wonderful cook. I had no idea that he knew how."

She smiled tightly. "Yeah, me neither."

I took a minute to think about that, then realized what she was saying. Mr. Shue did as well. "Lily taught him." His voice was low.

So Finn had told her about Joseph and Lily. "He told you about what happened?" My voice was low enough so that Finn couldn't hear it.

"Yeah." His eyes looked suddenly shiny. "I don't think he told me everything, but he told me part of it."

"That's good, that he can talk about it, I mean. That he trusts you enough to tell you things. Finn needs to be able to trust people, especially adults." Carole's ramble was broken by the sound of something falling in the kitchen and a muttered 'oops.'

"I'll get him." I left the two grown-ups to hash it out in the living room in favor of figuring out what Finn was destroying in there. "Finn? What are you up to?"

He gave me a guilty look. "I knocked over a chair. I picked it up, though."

I didn't even want to know how. "Did you get the cookies together?"

He proudly held up the tinfoil covered plate. "They have butterscotch _and _chocolate chips! They're like heaven in your mouth."

I could think of a better use for my mouth, preferably attached to his, but I smiled instead. "Great. I'll try one when we get home."

"Do you promise? Because I mostly made them for you and your dad, because I know that you both like butterscotch."

The fact that he had included Dad in his comment gave me hope. With every day that passed, Finn was healing a little more, getting a bit more confident. I took the plate so it wouldn't get dropped. "So, Cowboy, are you ready to go home?"

He leaned against me, his smile telling me everything I needed to know. "Yep, I'm ready to go home."


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: This chapter was originally a lot longer, which is why it has a strange end, but it finally got too long, so I chopped it up. Love to all of my reviewers, you guys have no idea how much I love seeing the review alert in my inbox.**

_**Like all parents, my husband and I just do the best we can, hold our breath and hope we've set aside enough money for our kid's therapy.  
~ Michelle Pfeiffer ~**_

A week later, we had our first family therapy session. I didn't like it, Finn didn't like it, and I was pretty sure that Dad wasn't entirely pleased either, but Carole insisted. I had been as charming as possible towards Carole, trying to convince her that Finn and I didn't really have to go, since he had a therapist already, and I was supposed to start seeing one next week, a prospect I wasn't sure if I was looking forward to or not, but she had held firm. Family counseling was for the family, and that meant all of us. I had tried appealing to Dad, but I think he's afraid of the famous Hudson temper, so he wouldn't back me up.

I took care to put together my best outfit, matching accessories and making my hair and face perfect. Finn lounged on the bed and watched, his face expressionless and his eyes distant. He hadn't said much about this, once his initial objection was done, but he wasn't pleased. His silence had become a weapon, his way of punishing us when things didn't go his way.

Not me, though. Finn never punished me by refusing to speak, something I found perplexing and worrying in turns. While I loved Finn desperately, I was no closer to him then Carole, whom he had no trouble going mute on. My fear was that Finn had never punished me because I had yet to do something that bothered him badly enough for him to do so. The therapy situation wasn't my fault, and I had proven that by attempting to get us both out of it. It made me wonder though, what I would do to piss Finn off, and what my punishment would be.

Not that I feared Finn in the slightest. He would never raise a hand to me, and I knew it, but there are a million ways to devastate someone, and Finn had been taught by the master himself. I gave him a tight smile. "Do need help picking your clothes?"

"No." It came out very quietly.

"Oh. Are you waiting for the bathroom?"

"Yeah." He stood and nudged past me, one hand resting briefly on my back. The touch was feather-light, and really couldn't tell if he was doing it out of a true desire to touch me, or just to help keep his balance.

Finn was like that now, that strange mix of closed off and vulnerable. He hadn't said anything about kissing me on the porch until very late the next day. Then, without warning, he had come over while I was doing my moisturizing, leaning over my shoulder and meeting my eyes in the mirror. "Can I kiss you again?"

Naturally, I had said yes, and he had kissed me, one hand slipping under my chin to raise my face up, the other coming down to rest on my lower back. This time there was tongue, and it was a struggle to keep from doing something embarrassing, like humping his leg or confessing my undying love. I didn't have anything to compare it to, but I was pretty sure that Finn was one of the best kissers in the universe.

_Swoon. Now barf. _

All, too soon, Finn broke the kiss and looked deep into my eyes. "Was that alright?"

I was too stunned to make a sound. Also, there was a distinct lack of blood making it up to my brain. "I…uh…." I couldn't get my breathing under control.

"Did I scare you? Because I don't want to scare you or hurt you." He was so worried that it caused a physical ache.

"No. You were great, Finn. But I don't want you to be scared either. I want you to do this at your own pace."

"I am." He pushed away from me and went back to his bed, snuggling under the covers. "Thanks, though."

Thankfully, he had started in on his homework then, which allowed me to sneak off to the bathroom for an impromptu shower and jerking off session without him noticing the enormous tent in my pajama pants. How in the world could such a simple kiss turn me on so much?

Finn was still awake when I came out, his mouth still but his eyes telling me that he knew exactly what I had been up to in there. They were not, however, giving me any clue about how he might feel about that. I sat on the edge of his bed. "This doesn't have to mean anything, you know." It killed me to say it, but I had to make myself clear.

His head tilted. "Does it have to _not_ mean anything?" He didn't meet my eyes when he asked.

"No." My hands clutched desperately at each other under the blanket, but my voice was calm. "It can mean whatever you want it to mean."

"What do _you_ want it to mean?" I had his full attention now, his homework forgotten. "I mean, there's two of us here, not just me."

"You know that I love you with all my heart. But…." I took a deep breath and forced myself to be steady. "I understand if you don't feel the same way about me. It can just be a physical thing if you want it to be."

"No." He pushed back and stared at me with dark, angry eyes. "If I do that, then I'm just like him. Just using someone because I want to get off. That's horrible, Kurt, the worst thing in the world."

I hadn't looked at that way, but I could see his point. "That's not what I meant. _I'm_ fully agreeing to a physical thing, _you_ weren't given a choice. But I do want to know what you want out of this. It's not fair to either one of us if we aren't on the same page."

He shrugged. "I don't want just a physical thing, but, I don't really know what I do want. So maybe we shouldn't do this."

By trying to fix and clarify things, I had just irreparably destroyed them. "Ok." My voice was a half question.

"Yeah." He wrapped his arms around himself, looking like I had kicked him. "Does that wreck everything? Cause I really do like you and everything. I just don't know if I like you as much as you like me. I'm sorry, Dude, but I want to be fair."

I appreciated his honesty, even if it wasn't what I wanted to hear. "But we can still be friends, right? I don't want to lose what we have now."

He grinned, that dopey smile that always made my heart clench. "Dude, we're better then friends. We're bros and bros don't give up on each other, no matter what."

Finn had slept in his own bed that night, and every night since. It was good, that he was sleeping better, but all it really did was make my own bed feel empty and cold and even though this was my own fault and-

"Dude, what's wrong?" Finn had come out of the bathroom while I was lost in thought, his toothbrush still jammed in his mouth. "I've been calling you for like a whole minute."

I had been so lost in thought I hadn't even heard him. "I'm sorry, Finn. What did you need?"

He shot me a funny look. "Nothing. I just wanted to tell you that you're almost out of shampoo."

There had been a quarter bottle an hour ago. "Did you use it?" His guilty face told me that he had. "Finn, that shampoo is very expensive. It's also designed to give volume to people with naturally fine hair, which you do not have. I would stomp on puppies to have hair like you do, and what do you do with it? Nothing. There is no justice in this world, I swear."

Both of Finn's eyebrows were raised now, and I had to laugh at his expression. "Never mind, Cowboy, I'll get some more later today. Why would you want to use my shampoo any way? You have your own."

"Yours smells better. It smells like you and that's good." He ducked his head and gave me an embarrassed smile. "Sorry."

"It's fine." Not to mention more then a little bit flattering. "Are you ready to face the music up there?"

"Not really, but we don't have a choice to we? They made the appointment and we're stuck."

Almost on cue, Carole was calling us both. Finn scowled at the door, but took his toothbrush back to the bathroom and marched resolutely up the stairs. Whether he liked it or not, he was going to do the best he could.

Dad was looking for his keys, grumbling to himself. When he turned towards me, I could see the swelling around his eye had gone down quite a bit. He still couldn't open that eye more then halfway, and the horrible black color had actually gone part way down his cheekbone, but it looked at least a little better.

Finn saw where I was looking and visibly cringed. No matter how many times we told him that it wasn't his fault, and that no one, especially not Dad, blamed him, none of us couldn't make him believe it.

Two nights ago, Carole had gone to the movies with a friend. It had been a struggle to convince her to go, and that Finn, Dad, and I would be just fine in her absence. I had set up an evening of pizza, ice cream and sports games, all things that would thrill Finn to no end. Naturally, I had been bored to death and spent most of the evening texting Mercedes on the sly, but anything that brought Finn and Dad a little closer was worth it.

And things had been going so well! Dad had spent most of dinner regaling Finn with stories from his short lived college football career, and their teams (apparently, I wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention at that point) won both games. Then Dad had put in a movie while he cleaned up the dinner dishes, and Finn and I had both gotten absorbed in the screen.

Or maybe Finn hadn't been as absorbed as I thought, because when I looked over, he had been asleep, stretched out on the couch. He hadn't been sleeping as well in his own bed, dreaming and thrashing restlessly, and I wanted him to get as much rest as possible. So I put a blanket on him and left him alone.

It wasn't until the movie finished that Dad made his fatal mistake. On his way up the stairs, he leaned over to pat Finn's shoulder. "Wake up, Buddy, bedtime."

As soon as his hand made contact, Finn jolted awake and gave the most horrible shriek I had ever heard in my life. It was exactly what I imagined a coyote sounded like the instant the trap snapped closed around its leg. I shot to my feet, but I was too late.

Finn reeled about in a blind panic, lashing out desperately. One fist caught Dad in the face, the other in the shoulder. He didn't keep attacking, though. Once he was out of the tangle of his blanket, he had backed up until he hit the wall, then just stood there, stiff and trembling. Dad was holding a hand to his face, his expression one of total shock.

Since there was very little I could do for him, I focused on Finn. "It's alright, Sweetie, it's alright. I'm here; I won't let anything happen to you." I started towards him, then stopped. Finn's eyes were huge and black, not focusing on me at all. Right now he was dangerous, not only to Dad, but to me and even himself. If I crowded him, he was just as likely to lunge at me as he had at Dad.

So I stood about 6 feet away and talked softly and soothingly, avoiding making direct eye contact. Dad moved out of the room, either to give us some privacy or just get some ice, but I never took my eyes off Finn. Gradually, the animal panic faded out of his eyes and his body relaxed slightly. I kept talking. "Come here, Cowboy, its ok. Dad didn't mean to scare you, I promise. Come on, it's ok."

Finally, he had crept forward and allowed me to wrap my arms around him. His T-shirt was drenched in sweat and his muscles were still wracked with the occasional shudder. "There you go, you're safe."

His head shook, but he didn't elaborate, just mumbled indistinctly into my neck. I gave him a gentle nudge towards the stairs. "Go on downstairs, ok? I'll talk to Dad; let him know it wasn't your fault."

"M'sorry." It was barely a whisper. "Tell him, ok?" 

"I will." With my promise, Finn turned and fled down the stairs, glad to be out of range of what he was sure was going to be Dad's fury.

I took a deep breath and held it for a five count, trying to figure out how things always ended up going so wrong with Finn and Dad. I couldn't come to any sort of conclusion, so I stepped into the kitchen. "Are you ok, dad?"

He was getting some ice to put on his eye. "I'm fine, Kid. How's Finn?"

"He thinks you're going to kill him." I stepped closer and took the ice and wrapped it expertly in a dishtowel before handing it back. His eye was already swollen shut and getting worse by the minute. Finn had nailed him.

"Would it do any good if I went down there and explained that I won't or will that just make it worse?" His defeated tone told me that he already knew the answer.

"I think it would make things worse. Don't worry, I can handle it." I hugged him one last time, then went downstairs to try and fix things with Finn.

Except I couldn't. Finn refused to believe me, no matter how many times I told him that it was fine, that Dad wasn't angry. In his mind, Dad now had a legitimate reason to hate and abuse him, and that was enough for Finn. In the past few days, Finn has emerged from the basement only a handful of times, slinking around like he expected an attack from all sides. He wasn't depressed this time, he was terrified.

I'm pretty sure that that was the main reason that Carole turned such a deaf ear to our pleas not to have to go to therapy. The worst part was, deep down, I knew that she was right. Our family couldn't keep going like it was, and we obviously couldn't sort it out ourselves either.

"Ready." He had put on a dark blue shirt with Garfield the cat on the front, his favorite. He claimed that it was lucky, even though he had no evidence to back up that claim. "We can do this."

I stood up myself, allowing him to put an arm around my shoulders and pull me close. "Of course we can. We're the Hudson-Hummel brothers, and we can do whatever we put our minds to."

"Yeah, we kick ass." Trust Finn to put it as succinctly as possible.

"We do, don't we?" I squared my shoulders, gaining new confidence from his words.

Dad and Carole were waiting for us at the back door. Carole was wearing one of the outfits I had chosen for her, but Dad was in his basic jeans and a flannel shirt combo. Again, I couldn't help but feel like this had become another boys vs. girls situation. Dad held up the car keys. "Let's do this thing. Boys, would either one of you like to drive?"

Finn shook his head, not looking Dad in the eye. I, on the other hand, had no such issues. We were going to the same place where Finn's doctor was based, and where I would be going next week, so I figured it would be a good idea for me to know how to get there. Especially since my first appointment had been scheduled to coincide with the first time Finn would be going to Dr. Hayden's office, as opposed to her coming to the house. Since it might take most of my attention to keep him from jumping out of the car, it would be nice to be able to cross one worry off my list. "I do."

We shuffled around, with Dad and I in the front and Carole sitting with Finn in the back. He was chatty today, still stuck on the idea of getting a pet, preferably a snake, or possibly something in the lizard family.

I listened to his arguments with half an ear, somewhat amused at their logical and organized nature. If he could apply that to his schoolwork, he would be golden. Dad, too, was listening with a bemused smile on his face. He glanced over at me and raised an eyebrow. I shook my head. "Finn, if you bring home a reptile, I will skin it and turn it into a handbag."

He looked wounded. "You would make Reptilicus into a dude purse? That's cold."

Oh, dear Prada, please tell me that he hadn't named his imaginary pet already. I decided to ignore that part of his comment. "Handbags are for girls, Finn. There's no such thing as a 'dude purse'"

"Then what's that thing you take to the mall when you shop with Mercedes and Tina? Looks like a purse to me."

"T-that…that is a satchel, which his not the same thing as a purse. I use it to hold my wallet and phone." Too late, I realized that I was just digging myself a deeper pit.

"Sounds like a purse, too." The worst part was, Finn wasn't being a deliberate jerk. He was genuinely confused, and trying to figure things out.

At my side, Dad was doing his best not to snicker. I couldn't explain why a satchel wasn't a purse for men, because it really _was_ a purse for men, so I went with distraction instead. "We'll talk about it later. But guess what? Since you're so insistent, I've decided to withdraw my previous objections and allow you to get a rat, provided you can keep the cage clean and do not let it get loose."

His smile was immediate. "Really? I love you, I love you, I love you!" Had we not been in a moving vehicle, I'm sure he would have given me one of his bone crushing hugs as well.

Carole looked at me. "Kurt, are you sure?" 

I tried to sound flippant, like we all didn't know that I would eventually give Finn whatever he wanted. "Why not? It will be his responsibility, and he doesn't even want to know what I'll do to him if he fails at it."

Finn's mutter of 'probably make me carry a man-purse' was just loud enough for everyone to hear.

There was a snarky reply to that swishing around in my brain, but I decided to focus on parking the car instead. Dad would kill me if I scratched his brand new car, especially because I had a suspicion that it was going to become Carole's brand new car before long.

I had been having horrible premonitions that Finn was going to flip out and have to be dragged out of the car, but it didn't to end up happening. His unusual calm made me wonder if he wasn't tired of living with the stress of our family, too.

There were any number of toys and magazines in the lobby, and I entertained myself with an outdated US weekly. I kept one eye on Lindsay Lohan's first (or second, or third) round of troubles and the other on Finn, who was quietly playing with a little logic puzzle. While he would have been helpless if it was on paper, once the toy was in his hands, he separated the two pieces with very little effort. He held them up for us to inspect, looking hopeful.

Dad nodded him. "Nice, Finn. You're really good with your hands. Maybe you can come and help me at the garage some time? Kurt's been helping me out for years."

"That would be good, I guess." He was treading carefully now, just like he always did with Dad, but at least they were having an actual give and take conversation.

"Good. We'll pick a day when Kurt can come too, so he can help keep an eye on things. It shouldn't take you long to learn." Then he was back to his copy of National Geographic.

Carole neither played with the puzzles nor looked at the magazines. She just watched us out of the corner of her eye and allowed a small smile to touch the corners of her mouth. Tiny steps, tiny steps.

"Hummel family?" The receptionist's voice cut through our individual musings.

"Hummel-Hudson. We're not married." Carole pulled Finn to his feet as she spoke.

"My apologies. The doctor will see you now." She gestured to the door on the right side of the room. Nice oak, looked good with the flow of the room. The knob could have been better, though. It was a glass one and it looked like something that you might see in a grandmother's house.

Apparently, as much as I disliked the status quo, if I was this obsessed over a doorknob, I was still nervous about trying to change things. Dad must have sensed it, because his hand came down on my shoulder and guided me into the room.

It looked exactly like a therapists office from a movie. Lots of nice clean lines, nice seascapes on the wall, two chairs and a leather couch. Carole and Dad sat on the couch together, and Finn and I took the chairs. I knew that our actions were being watched and analyzed, and I couldn't help but feel like we were making the wrong choices.

He even looked like a therapist. Tall, thin, balding, wearing a suit and tie. I was living in a cliché.

_Gay boy in love with his straight stepbrother? Yeah, baby, you're living in a cliché._

The therapist spoke. "Welcome. I'm Doctor Hooper, if everyone would like to introduce themselves."

We went around the room, saying our names and nothing more. "Ok, I want to know why you think you're in therapy with me today. All of you have agreed to come, which means that you all must feel that it's needed."

We all looked at each other, no one quite sure what to say. The one who ended up speaking up was the one who I would have never expected to. "Because me and Mr. Hummel don't get along. I did that to his eye. There's other stuff, too, but mostly me and him. But I want things to be better. I want us to be a good family."

"Finn, that's very good. I want you to hold on to that thought, because we'll come back to it. Now, what does everyone else think? Kurt, you're the next in line."

I didn't have Finn's familiarity with spilling his guts to a therapist, and I momentarily choked. "Well, Finn's right. The biggest problem is him and Dad, but…I don't' know, I think it's just that we're all used to being one parent one kid, and now it's two parents two kids." Was that the right thing to say?

"Alright. Carole?" He was making notes on his pad, and I would have given anything to know what he was writing about me.

"Both boys are correct. It's always just been Finn and I. His father died when he was just a baby, and I've never had a serious boyfriend before Burt, or one that I considered living with. Burt and I moved very quickly, maybe too quickly, and think that was hard on both boys. I want this family to succeed, and I think we need help making it happen."

More notes. "And Burt? You're the last man out."

Dad was obviously uncomfortable. Men of his generation didn't go to therapists, didn't talk about their feelings, didn't even acknowledge they had them. To have to sit here and talk about this in front of a stranger had to be galling to him. "I want us to be a normal family. One where we get along and we aren't walking on eggshells all the time. I don't want to wake up in the morning feeling stressed and worried about the day, and I don't want to go to bed thinking about everything I could have done differently. We're all stressed out constantly and it isn't good for any of us."

"Ok, so what I'm getting from all of you is that you feel like most of your issues are stemming from trying to blend a family with two teenage children?" At our nods, he kept going. "I find it very interesting that not one of you brought up Finn's kidnapping as a reason for therapy. Does nobody feel that that is playing into the family issues, the fear of and aggression towards Burt?"

Everybody in the room startled. Yes, we all knew that the kidnapping, if not the sole cause of our family issues, had worsened them exponentially. But to actually hear someone just say it like that? We never talked about it, except for what Finn had told me that first night, never. It was like we could pretend that it never happened.

_And that, my friend, is why the family is in therapy. You all might be able to pretend that it never happened. But Finn can't. And honestly? The fact that none of you can acknowledge what happened to Finn should worry you a lot more then it apparently does. It's not healthy and you all know it._

Point, set, match all went to that horrible voice. I opened my mouth to say something, but Dad beat me to the punch. "Yes, I realize that no one brought it up, and yes, I feel like it's what's causing all of our problems. There were small problems before, but we could have worked them out. Except we didn't get the chance."

I glanced over at Finn, and noticed that he was very intently focused on what Dad was saying. Dr. Hooper noticed it too. "Finn, is there something you would like to add?"

"I don't like it." The words came out in a rush. "When they don't talk about it. I don't want to talk about it every day, but everyone acts like it didn't even happen. It did, and Puck's dead and it's like no one but me notices. It makes me feel like I'm crazy."

His words surprised me, even though they shouldn't have. After all, hadn't he said the same thing just days ago? My brain flashed back to sitting with Finn on the back steps, my head on his shoulder. His voice whispered in my ear, as clear as if he was speaking out loud_. I'm not the same person. You and Mom and everyone keeps saying that I am but I'm not, and I can't keep pretending that I am_.

Dad sighed and rested his face in his hands. "I thought that we were helping by waiting for you to bring it up. I didn't realize that you felt that way. Why didn't you say anything to us?"

Now Finn was studying his own hands. "I don't know."

Neither Carole nor I spoke, focused on what was happening between Dad and Finn. Only nothing was. They had said their respective pieces and were now finished.

The doctor moved in. "Alright. I'm going to ask a few questions for Finn and Burt. Now, say there were no boundaries between the two of you, no consequences. You wouldn't even have to acknowledge this outside of the session. What would the two of you like to say to each other?"

They exchanged looks but neither spoke. I tried to step in. "Finn, why don't you start?"

He didn't look up, but he did mumble something. Carole reached out and physically pulled his chin up. "What was that honey?"

"I don't know what acknowledge means."

"It means you can pretend that it didn't happen after we leave. But, as long as we're in here, we have to think about it." Carole kept her grip so Finn couldn't put his head back down, but he stubbornly clamped his mouth shut.

"I'll go first. If that's alright with you, Finn." Dad's effort to smooth things over made Finn relax a little. "Yeah, it's ok."

He took a deep breath. "I guess what I want to say the most is that I'm sorry."

Now Finn didn't need any help keeping his head up. He was staring at Dad, completely focused. "How come?"

"Because I failed you as a parent and a guardian. When your mother brought you to come live with us, it meant that I was supposed to take care of you, and I didn't. I let you get taken and I let you get hurt. I'm sorry, Finn."

We were all staring. Dad had never, ever, indicated to me that he felt guilty about what had happened to Finn. Actually, I had never really considered his feelings at all. Of the three of us, he had known him for the shortest amount of time, and had the least connection to him. They liked each other, and they seemed to have bonded, but it had really only been a few weeks, two months at the most. How bonded could they possibly be?

_How long did it take for you to fall in love with him? How long did it take for him to become part of the group when he first joined New Directions? I'm guessing that that answer to both of those questions is far less then two months. Face it, Finn's lovable. Stubborn, somewhat stupid and definitely temperamental, true. But under that, he's easy going, affectionate, and so incredibly sweet that it's hard not to fall for him, at least a little. Your father sees that._

Since no one was saying anything, Dr. Hooper prompted Finn again. "Finn? How does it make you feel to hear that?"

"Confused, kind of. Maybe a little good. Like a tiny bit good."

"Okay…" The question hung, and we could all hear the unasked 'why does it make you feel good?'

"Cause, then it means that he liked me before, even if he doesn't now."

"I like you now!' Dad's voice was deeply frustrated. "I think you're tough and stubborn and you made it though something that would have killed most people, including me. I don't know how to make you see that."

"You could have just told me." Finn's voice was quiet, but strong. "You could have said _something_."

"Well, I'm saying it now. Alright, Finn? You're my kid now, just like Kurt, and I love you."

"Oh." Finn looked at the ceiling, then the floor, then each wall in turn. "Ok."

Carole caught the doctor's eye and drew her finger quickly across her throat. The doctor had done a great job in getting Finn and Dad to open up, but my new brother was at his limit.

He nodded smoothly. "Well, that gives Finn and Burt something to think about. Now, Kurt and Carole. How does everyone feel that things are going there?"

"Good." Carole and I spoke at the exact same time. She smiled gently at me, and gestured for me to speak first.

"It was a little strange at first, because it's been a long time since there's been a woman in the house, but we've really worked things out. We go shopping together, and we have a little garden that we work in. It couldn't be better."

"Liar." Finn was getting his revenge for being put on the spot earlier. "You pretend that you don't care about not doing the cooking and cleaning and stuff, but you do. Mom, too. You both think it's your job and both of you don't want to share it."

I couldn't believe that he had A) noticed that, and B) actually had the balls to bring it up. I shot my most evil glare.

By this point, Finn and I could have entire conversations with our eyes, enough so that he had no trouble understanding what my glare meant. _Finn! How could you sell me out like that!_

His return glare was just as fierce. _Karma's a bitch, dude, isn't it? You did it to me first!_

_ I did not! You were the first one to say that things were bad between you and Dad. All I did was agree with you._

_ Well, you shouldn't have done that. I'm not the bad guy here. If we have to sit here and pick apart how I feel about your Dad, then you're going to get to have your feelings for Mom picked apart, too. Fairs fair._

_ I hate you, Finn Hudson._

_ Well, I hate you, Kurt. _

_ I don't care. See if I let you sleep in my bed tonight._

_ Newsflash, moron. I haven't slept in your bed the past few nights! So there!_

_ Jerk!_

_ Bitch!_

Then, as if we were both following an invisible cue, we turned our heads from each other and sulked, each seeking the eye of our respective parent. Unfortunately, our little spat, though only lasting a few seconds, hadn't exactly gone unnoticed. Dr. Hooper broke the silence. "Would everyone prefer to address Kurt and Carole's issues, or discuss what just happened between the boys?"

Dad cleared his throat. "Boys fight. It's what they do." He didn't say what he had to be thinking, which was that no matter what he said, it was going to be the wrong thing. If he wanted to talk about Finn and I, it would piss me off and ruin the progress he had been making with Finn. If he wanted to talk about me and Carole, she would be irritated with him, and so would I. So, either way, I ended up upset, and he didn't want to have to choose between Finn and Carole. So he tried to bluff his way out of the situation. It might have even worked, had we not been under the watchful eye of a trained therapist.

"Certainly boys fight, though I do find it interesting that you refer to them simply as 'boys' and not 'brothers' or even 'stepbrothers'. However, one of the reasons you are all here is to learn better ways of dealing with things, and letting them block the two of you out so they can fight is never a good thing. What do you usually do when the boys fight?"

They exchanged looks, both looking puzzled. Dad finally spoke. "I….I guess I don't know. They don't fight."

"Ever? I find it hard to believe that two teenage boys, who have never shared a parent or a room never, ever have arguments. You're telling me that they have never once fought with each other?"

"No, they haven't." They only shared for a few days before…" Carole took a deep breath and forced the next words out. "Before Finn was kidnapped, and there hasn't really been a major fight since he got back. I'm thinking that we're long overdue for one, though."

Since Finn and I were still glaring daggers at each other, it didn't take a genius to figure out that the fight was here. "How do the two of you think that a fight should be handled if it occurs?"

"I'd let them work it out themselves." Carole spoke at the exact same time as Dad said "I'd yank the offender up pretty quick."

Carole's eyes went narrow at Dad. "_You_ would yank the offender up? You don't think that discipline is something that we should handle together?"

Suddenly the focus was off of Finn and I entirely as Carole and Dad went head to head. "Well…yeah. I wouldn't be cruel about it, but if you just let them go at each other, someone could be hurt."

"They're 17 years old each and they're good kids! When was the last time Kurt hit someone? When was the last time Finn did? They aren't going to hurt each other, and learning to work things out on their own will only benefit them in the long run. What if I don't like the way you discipline _my_ son? The way you see it, I shouldn't have a say until after the punishment was over." She was fuming, and she wasn't going to back down. "What do you plan on doing to him? Grounding him? Telling him he can't go to practice? Kicking him out of the house? Beating him?"

"Don't be silly. I would never, ever hurt Finn! I'd probably ground him. Maybe tell him no TV or internet. I don't know, it would depend on what he did. That's what I do when Kurt acts up."

When he noticed. Most of the time, I could have done anything I felt like, watched violent movies, eaten nothing but junk food for weeks on end, or all but flunked out of school, and he would have barely noticed. There were really only two things that I could do that were guaranteed to get his attention. The first was not show up on time when I was coming home from school or shopping. Dad was terrified that something would happen to me, and me not being home on time fed into those worries. He might not notice me much when I was around, but he sure noticed if I was supposed to be there and wasn't. Probably 90% of the punishments I had received in my life were related to not being where I was supposed to, when I was supposed to be there.

The other thing I could do to anger my father happened far less frequently, but galled me much more. I knew I was gay, he knew I was gay, and it was generally agreed between us that we just wouldn't bring it up. I was fine with that, considering that I couldn't think of many things more humiliating then having to have to talk about men with my father anyway. However, he seemed to feel that that agreement not only meant we wouldn't acknowledge my sexuality out loud, but that I shouldn't act in any way that might be too gay for him.

The blow out when he found my tiara collection, which had resulted in my losing my car for over a month, was a prime example. It wasn't like I actually wore the damn things outside the house, or even outside of the basement, but even their presence was enough to offend Dad's many sensibilities, so goodbye car, and goodbye tiaras. I never figured out exactly what Dad had done with over $500 worth of glitter and gems, and I had never had the courage to ask. Things were a little better now, but I still caught that shadowy look in his eyes sometimes, the one that wondered why, if he had to end up with a gay son, he couldn't at least have one who was a little less…stereotypical. One that was more like Finn, who was apparently just perfect.

_Oh, you just have your panties in a bunch because Finn called you out in front of both of your parents. He didn't do anything wrong._

I knew that. But couldn't I just be mad at Finn for a few minutes?

_Sure. But try not to do it in front of the therapist, ok? _

Oh. Yeah, not acting like a spoiled brat in front of the therapist might be a good idea. Luckily, no one was paying the slightest bit of attention to me. Carole sighed very deeply and squeezed her eyes shut. I had seen Finn do the exact same thing enough times to know that she was attempting to calm herself before she said something terrible. "Obviously, there are still issues that Burt and I need to discuss when it comes to raising children, so we can be sure that we're on the same page."

"Deciding how to handle the children can be the hardest part of blending a family, but it's very important that you do have that discussion. Not understanding each others expectations and rules just sets the family up for failure. I should probably warn you right now, though, that you have only five minutes left in this session."

Had it been an hour already? If therapy was going to go by this quickly, then I guessed my own sessions might not be so bad. No wonder that it was so easy to get Finn to come upstairs and talk to Samantha.

"I'll bet you think that we're a bunch of freaks now, huh?" Trust Finn to always say what everyone else was thinking.

He laughed. "Well, Finn, most trained psychologists don't use the term 'freak' any more. And, no, I don't think there's anything wrong with this family that can not be fixed. The four of you obviously love each other, or you wouldn't be here, trying to sort things out. And, to be perfectly frank, what I saw here is exactly what I want to see. A little fighting means that you're all emotionally invested in things. It's when I get families in here who won't look at each other, and don't think there are any problems, and don't seem to care what happens that I know I'm in trouble. What I would like to see happen, is all of your talking things out with each other this week. Burt and Carole, you assumed that you were on the same page about how discipline should be handled, but you weren't. Burt, you assumed that Finn knew that you felt guilty about his kidnapping, and he didn't. Finn, you assumed that your family understood that you might need to talk about what happened sometimes, but they don't know that unless you tell them. The four of you need to start _talking_ to each other, and figuring out what your real relationships are, and where the boundaries need to be drawn."

Even though I logically knew that he was speaking mostly to Dad and Carole, I couldn't help but feel like he meant Finn and I. From the sideways glance I received, I knew Finn was thinking the same thing. Again, we communicated without speaking.

_Tonight?_

_Tonight. Tonight I'll tell you what I want and hopefully it's what you want, too._

_ I just want you to be happy. Even if we want different things, we can still have a special relationship, only as brothers._

_ I will be happy. You worry too much._

_ That's rich, coming from you._

A quick smile quirked the corners of his mouth, though he made no effort to deny my words. Both Dad and Carole were talking quietly to each other, but Dr. Hooper's eyes were on us. I ignored him as best as I could. Maybe next week there would be something to say to him, but not right now. Right now was just for Finn and I.

"Before we wrap up this session, is there anything else that you guys would like to share with one another? Remember, this is a safe place, and you can express anything that you need to."

Finn broke his staring contest with me. "Yeah." He turned to Dad. "I'm sorry I busted your eye like that. I really didn't do it on purpose; I just got scared when you grabbed me."

"That's alright, Finn. I know that you're sorry. I probably should have thought a little and been more gentle."

Finn smiled at him, but it was fake and strained. "Ok. So, like, you forgive me?"

"Yes."

"That's good." The fake smile faded, but his eyes were still wary. I wondered what his issue was. He turned back to the doctor, and, this time, his smile was real. "That was it."

Dr. Hooper nodded. "Anyone else?"

We all shook our heads. "Then I'll see the four of you the week after next. Tracy at the front desk will get your insurance information sorted out. Everybody work on talking to each other and making yourselves understood."

We all thanked him and stood up to leave. I put my hand on Finn's back, even though I knew that the doctor could see it. He didn't miss a step, but one arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me close. I leaned into him, knowing that this might be the last time I was able to do this while considering Finn a potential boyfriend, instead of just a brother.

The pair of us sat in the backseat on the ride home. Finn seemed to have recovered his equilibrium and was rambling happily about the rat I had promised him. He was so happy that I found myself getting excited as well. Maybe this wouldn't be such a disaster. And even if it was horrible, rats didn't live that long, did they? At the very least, the thing could have an unfortunate accident involving a peanut butter trap.

Finn was happily listing the things his rat would need, including a cage, and bedding and food and toys. This creature was rapidly becoming a money pit. "Finn, a big cage like you want and lots of toys and special bedding all costs money. Lots of money."

"I have some money. But I want him to have a really big cage, like we saw on the internet. He'll be sad if he's stuffed in a little tiny cage like in the pet store. If he's in a big cage, it will be almost like he's free."

I wondered if Finn consciously understood that he was comparing himself, and they way he had been held captive in too small of a space to the rat in a tiny cage. The rat he didn't even own yet, but was already treating like a beloved pet. I didn't want to bring it up, though. I would just make sure that Finn got what he needed, even if I had to pay for it myself.

"Finn, I'm going to write you a check for what you need, ok? He can be my gift to you."

There was nothing in the entire world that Dad could have done that would have made Finn happier. For the first time, Finn gave him a genuine smile. "Really?"

"Really. Call it a belated birthday present."

For few seconds Finn was quiet, looking down at his lap. Then he smiled again. "Thank you, Burt. That's super cool of you."

Even after all this time, he still didn't consistently call Dad by his first name. When he was happy, like now, he was much more likely to do so. The chances that he would every call him 'Dad' seemed very remote, which suited me just fine, but the familiarity of his first name made things seem a little more normal. It made it easy to pretend that we were a real family.

"Make a list of what you need for this creatures, and one of us will take you to the store tomorrow."

"Ok. Kurt, will you take me? You can help me pick it out."

I'm pretty sure that Finn had picked up on the fact that my agreement to his new pet was somewhat reluctant, and he was hoping that I would me more enthusiastic if I was allowed some input in the matter. I smiled and rubbed his shoulder. "Maybe I could find something that matches the flow of the room."

"Yeah. We'll get one that's flyer grey!" He sounded beyond pleased.

"_Dior_ grey, and maybe." We were pulling up to the house, so I grabbed Finn before anyone else could. If I had to wait much longer to have the talk with Finn, the stress would make me break out. "We're going to go downstairs and get that list started. Carole, please let me know if I can do anything to help with dinner."

Finn wanted to stop in the kitchen and get a snack, but I kept on dragging him towards the basement. "_Now_, Finnegan. Snacks come later."

He knew what was coming, and his body stiffened slightly. But he was nodding at me, his expression calm. Whatever his decision had been, it was made now, and he wasn't backing down from it.

Once we were in the basement, he chose to sit on my bed for the first time in days. Was that a good sign? It must be a good sign. "So, you want to talk about stuff? I'm sorry if I made you mad in there. I want things to be good for you and Mom, so we can be a family. It can't be that way if no one tells the truth."

He was right. Of course he was right, but I didn't feel up to dealing with that right now. "We'll talk about that later. I want to talk about you and me right now."

His face fell. "Oh. About you and me being together?" He leaned back and nodded stiffly. "Ok, let's talk."


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: This may be the only chapter of the fic not from Kurt's POV. I felt like I needed a little background, but I didn't want to use Finn. Like it? Hate it? Would you prefer to have it be only Kurt from here on out?

_**He who takes a child by the hand, takes the mother by the heart**_

_**Danish Proverb**_

Carole POV

I worry about my son. This is nothing new, of course. Mothers have worried about their sons since the Garden of Eden, and maybe further back then that. If animals can worry about their offspring, and how can they not, they must worry about them as well.

But there's a special worry that comes with a son like Finn. He's a good boy. A genuinely good boy, though I'm sure every mother feels that way about her child. But while Finn is loving, charming, and the light of my life, but he's also naïve, and easily led. He wants to fix everything for everyone, and he just didn't have enough life experience to know that that isn't always possible. At least he didn't know before all of this happened. I'm sure now he knows far more then any teenager, or even adult, should have to know about how life works.

I've long since come to the conclusion that there is just something about some kids, some sort of pheromone, that just attracts the wrong sort of people to them. Take Kurt and the hockey team. There are other children in the school for them to pick on, but for some reason they focus in on him every time. Finn's hockey team just happened to be one Noah Puckerman.

Don't get me wrong, I loved the boy. Noah (and God, I hated to call him 'Puck'.) was a good boy, too. The problem was, he was the sort of boy who attracted trouble, and his trouble always seemed to spill over and involve Finn. Case in point: my son working his butt off to try and support and care for a child that wasn't his. Puck knew who the father of that child was, but he was willing to pawn it off on Finn. He and I really haven't talked about baby Beth, and what he thought about everything, but I know he was devastated to find out the truth. Or, even you need a more extreme example, look at what happened on the night Finn was taken. What should have been a simple trip to go get a hamburger turned into a murder and kidnapping.

And yes, I know how unfair it is for me to blame Noah for that, even a tiny bit. For that night, at least, he did nothing wrong. They were going to go bowling, a nice, safe activity, and have hamburgers for dinner. They weren't going to party, they weren't going to drink, they weren't going to go out and get girls pregnant. As far as teenage entertainment went, it should have been a rather sedate night.

Besides, I know whose fault it really is. Burt thinks that it's his, because he wasn't watching Finn closer. Kurt thinks it's his, for some reason I don't understand. Finn thinks that it's his, because he's the one who told Puck to pull over and help the woman with the baby. But I know that it's really mine. I was given one child in this world, to protect and take care of, and I managed to screw it up.

Finn knows the rules of the house as well as I do. If there isn't going to be an adult at home, he's not going anywhere except to a friends house to stay. Period. No parties, no bowling, no nothing. It's a hard rule, but it's a fair one, at least in my opinion. Since Burt and I had a date, that was grounds for me to deny is request right there. He would have sulked, but he would have accepted it.

But I didn't. Finn had looked so pitiful, staring at me with Christopher's own brown eyes, miserable and begging me to let him go. I had wavered, and finally given in. Why had I let him go, when previously I had fought so very hard to keep him with me and out of harms way?

When I was a little girl, I had a very clear vision of how my life would go. I would meet my tall, dark and handsome man, marry young, and have two wonderful children. A boy and a girl would be preferable, though I also liked the thought of having two boys to roughhouse with each other. Then we would settle in together for a life of perfect happiness, at least until the grandkids started arriving.

It's strange how you can get exactly what you asked for, then loose it in seconds. By the time I was 19 years old, I was standing there in the courthouse, marrying the man of my dreams. By age 20, I was a mother to a gorgeous baby boy. And at age 22, I was as single mother, applying for food stamps and trying to figure out how to keep us off the streets.

Christopher showed up on occasion, just to rile Finn up and leave him for me to soothe. After a few months, Finn stopped recognizing him at all, and would scream when Chris tried to hold him. After a few times, he just quit showing up. It was better that way. He was frequently shaky, and I was terrified that he would drop or accidentally hurt Finn. I still loved him, and I wanted us to be a family, but I couldn't put my son in danger. If Chris had been in his right mind, he would have understood.

In the end, I swallowed my pride and called his parents for help. My own parents had passed away already, and I had no one else to try. I knew that neither one of them was particularly fond of me, or the way I had given up on my husband, but I wasn't really asking for anything for myself. They had plenty of money, so I didn't have to feel like I was keeping them from buying what they needed for themselves. Surely they wouldn't deny their own grandchild what he needed?

They didn't. In fact, Ellen Hudson was on the very next plane out, telling me not to worry, that the two of us would come up with a plan together. I spent the day cleaning, scrubbing our tiny apartment until everything shone. Finn, dressed in the little overalls that she had sent him, drowsed sweetly against my shoulder, his old blanket clutched in one hand.

If there's one thing that can be said about my former mother in law, it's that she gets right to business. She refused my offer of tea (left over from that morning) and cookies (generic Oreos) and sat down across from me on the couch. "Well, the three of us are in a mess, aren't we Carole?"

Tears threatened, but I refused to show weakness. "We are in a mess."

"Well, as things stand right now, Christopher is not capable of taking care of himself, much less his son. Tell me what the two of you need."

"If you could just…" I had to swallow my pride to say the next words, but having Finn in my arms reminded me of just why they were so important. "If you could loan my some money, just to get Finn in daycare while I start school. After this semester, I'll qualify for more assistance, so it would just be for a few months. I'll even be glad to pay you back, but I can't support him on what waitressing pays long term. I can barely pay the bills now, and he's only going to get bigger and need more"

As if he knew he was being discussed, Finn stirred against my shoulder and raised his head. He was in a bit of a fearful phase with strangers, and I was terrified that he would start to cry. He didn't. He just smiled shyly and pressed his face into my neck. Ellen reached out. "May I hold him?"

I shifted him to her carefully, and he smiled again. She bounced him gently against her legs and the smile became a rain of giggles. My Finn, always the charmer. I started to relax. We were communicating mother to mother, and whatever her personal feelings for me were, she was going to make sure things were alright for Finn.

"I've discussed the matter with Harrison, and we've come to a decision. Why don't you let us take Finn for right now? That way you can focus on school, and you'll know that he's safe. In return, we'll pay your tuition and all of your living expenses. We'll even send an allotment each month, so you don't have to worry about working. What do you say?"

The words were said in a honey tone, so sweet that it took a minute for me to understand what she was actually saying. She wanted me to sell Finn for a years tuition. She thought that there was a price on my precious babies head. "Are you asking me to sell you my son?"

She backtracked immediately, but not before I saw the truth in her eyes. She didn't like to hear it put so baldly, but yes, she wanted me to sell Finn. "Of course not! All I'm suggesting is that you need a little time to be a young girl, without a baby to distract you. It would only be for a few years, and you could come see us whenever you wanted."

She lived on the other end on the country. If I was lucky, I would scrape up the money to see him a few times a year. I wouldn't be the one to potty train him. I wouldn't make him his dinner and give him his baths and rock him to sleep at night, smelling his sweet baby smell. I reached out. "Ellen, give him back to me." My hands were on him, but she wasn't letting go, and I had a sudden e vision of the two of us treating him like a tug toy, until something terrible happened. But then she let go.

I squeezed his body to mine, way too tightly, and Finn started to wail. His chubby arms wound around my neck and I smothered him with kisses. "Ellen, I will not give you Finn, period. You need to leave."

She did without either a rude comment or trying to change my mind. And, I noticed rather quickly, any offers of help dried up as soon as she found out that Finn wasn't for sale, not for any price.

Later on, after I had lost him, but before I found him again, I would understand her a lot better. There as a deep desire to hang on to the tiniest bit of what you had lost, whether that was an old stuffed dog (though Kurt had appropriated Kitty, and I wasn't about to take it away from him) or your only grandchild.

Ellen never came to visit again. For a few years afterwards, she would send Finn ridiculously expensive gifts. I always dreaded them arriving, because I knew that the day would come when Finn asked why we didn't visit her, and I would be forced to tell him that it was because she had tried to buy him from me when he was a baby, just like he had been an object with a barcode.

Then Christopher died, and she lost interest in Finn completely. My anger had long since cooled, and I might have been open to them having a relationship, but I understood that she was suffering badly, and I would be lying if I didn't admit that there was some relief in there as well.

I didn't attend the funeral, even though I knew where it was. There was no one to watch Finn, and I certainly couldn't take him with me. He already knew that his father had died years before, and I didn't want to deal with the inevitable questions that seeing the coffin would provoke. I had told the lie with the best of intentions, but now I was stuck with it, for good or for bad. I just didn't want Finn thinking that he had done something wrong, or that he wasn't good enough for his father to get clean and make us a family again.

Even without Ellen's help, Finn and I muddled through. I found a teenage girl a few apartments over with a small son of her own. She was happy to watch Finn for a few extra dollars a week. And even if we went without television to save on electricity and I had to dress him entirely in clothing from Goodwill, Finn didn't go hungry. And he never once doubted that his mother loved him, which I'm sure he would have if I had given him up.

I dated a bit as Finn got older, but, with the exception of Darren, the Emerald Dreams God (and we all saw how _that_ turned out) none of them were serious. I tried to keep Finn away from them, for the most part, but he can be quite canny at times, and I'm sure he knew what 'mommy's friend' really meant. And if he didn't, Puck or his other friends would be more then happy to enlighten him.

Then, when it seemed like too much to ask for, I got a second chance. I was at parent-teacher night, girding myself for another set of lectures on how Finn didn't 'apply himself', or 'wasn't living up to his potential'. I was about to grab some generic punch when I felt a hand lightly touch my elbow. "Excuse me? You're Carole Hudson, right?"

My first thought was that this child was much too young to be a high schooler, and must be the youger sibling of a student, but I revised that quickly. This boy was small, but he stood with a self possession that no middle schooler could pull off. "I am."

His smile lit up his face. "Hi! I'm Kurt Hummel. I'm in Glee with Finn. Hang on one second" Then he was gone, bounding across the room.

So this was Kurt Hummel. Now that I got a good look at him, I recognized him from Finn's performances. Finn always seemed a little confused about Kurt, like he wasn't quite sure what to make of him. There was a fondness in his voice when he talked about him, and he respected his performances, but there was always something that stopped just shy of friendly with him. Watching Kurt all but float across the room, I had a suspicion about why that was. This kid was gay with a flaming capital G.

He spoke briefly to a short man, presumably his father, smacked a cookie out of the poor guy's hand, and drug him over to talk to me. Then Kurt himself vanished, leaving the two of us along together.

It wasn't love at first sight. Burt was nowhere near the tall, dark and handsome man from my fantasies. But he made me laugh. And he was kind. And he had a son who obviously adored him, which earned him lots of points in my book. So, when he asked me on a date, I said yes.

One date became two, which became five. Suddenly, I was in a relationship. It wasn't the spontaneous sort of relationship that I had had with Chris, but I wasn't that stupid 19 year old girl any more either. Kurt came over one day while Finn was at basketball and helped me with my clothes and hair. That kid is a regular wizard when it comes to that stuff, and he and I got along well. In fact, the entire thing seemed to be going so well that Burt and I agreed that it was time for us to have a date as a family.

It was a disaster. My usually cheerful, affable Finn decided that that night was the perfect one to act like a sullen brat. He wouldn't even look at Burt, who was being quite generous towards him. In retrospect, the huge deviation from his normal behavior should have been a red flag, but at the time it didn't seem so bad. Then, Burt was able to coax Finn to show a little life, and not like he was on a death march, so Kurt started acting up! It was like having two toddlers instead of two teenagers.

Finn's behavior continued at home. All of the sudden, Burt Hummel was public enemy number one, while Kurt had been promoted to confidant status. If there is one thing in this world I will never understand, it's the thought process of a teenage boy.

I finally got frustrated and yelled at him, only to find out that his aggression was rooted in the same place that most aggression is: fear. He was afraid of losing me, and afraid of losing his image of his father. I comforted him as best I could while still making it clear that I was the parent here, and he did not get to tell me how to run the relationship. He seemed to understand, and things actually settled down for a while.

Then Burt asked me to move in with him, and all hell broke loose. In retrospect, I should have done things far differently. It was unfair and borderline cruel of me to just spring it on him like I did. It was especially unfair because it was so obvious that Kurt _had_ been told. It created a me vs. them dynamic that wasn't how this relationship should start out.

To Finn's credit, he tried so _hard_ to stay polite. He didn't scream, he didn't kick things, he didn't swear. He just looked dead at me and told me that he wasn't ok with what was happening. And I ignored him. I'm ashamed to admit it now, but he was appealing to me for help, and I didn't give it at all. Then Burt stepped in and offered some money as a prize, which Finn had for approximately 4 seconds before Kurt took it, and we were all supposed to be one big happy family from there on out.

What actually happened, at least from Finn's point of view, was that I had told him that his feelings didn't matter. What mattered was me and my new relationship. So, if he wanted to keep my and my love, he would shut his mouth and put up with whatever we threw at him. And Burt's actions told him that he couldn't count on Kurt being corrected, even when he was clearly in the wrong and it happened right in front of the adults. Looking back, it's a lot clearer why the police originally thought Finn ran away from home.

Over the next three days, Finn alternated being moody and hiding himself away from everyone and clinging to me. It was on day three that he poked his head into the bedroom I now shared with Burt (and no, Finn, I didn't miss the way your lip curled when you looked around. You aren't subtle at all.) and asked me to help fix his make-up so that he looked like Gene Simmons. "I could, but wouldn't you rather have Kurt do it? He's much better at stage make-up then I am."

"NO!" The word came out too quickly and too loud. Finn's pupils dilated until the pretty brown was a thin ring. He was afraid.

I pulled him to me, feeling the rapid thud of his heart against my body. "What's wrong, Finn? Did Kurt do something to scare you?"

"No." This time the word was quieter, but his eyes cut down and to the left, a sure sign that he was lying. ""I just…I want you to help me. Not Kurt. You."

I fixed his make-up, gently prodding him to tell me what was wrong. He wouldn't. He just kept staring mournfully at me and shaking his head. I made a mental note to take him mini-golfing that weekend, just the two of us. He needed that reminder that he was my baby, and that he should never feel like he couldn't tell me anything.

The lingering guilt was the reason I agreed to let him go out with Puck that night. When Burt and I got home, I did peek down into the basement, and I swear I saw both boys in their beds. If we had been in the old house, I would have gone over to Finn, just to check on him. He always kicks his blankets off, has ever since he was a baby, and I would tuck him back in and kiss his cheek, just like I had almost every night of his life.

But he shared a room with Kurt now, and Kurt's a light sleeper. I didn't want to disturb him by going to Finn, so I just closed the door and went to bed myself. It's a decision that will probably haunt me for the rest of my life.

On Saturdays, I always try to make a big breakfast for Finn. It's my way of making up for the fact that I usually throw a Poptart at him during the week, when we both have stricter schedules to be kept to.

Usually Finn can smell food like a grizzly bear, and it upstairs and getting in my way by 8, but it was now 8:45 and there was no sign of him. I was starting to suspect that his night out with Noah hadn't been as innocent as he had made it sound like, and my boy was fighting off a miserable hangover. I sighed heavily and went back downstairs to check on him. Kurt was buried under his pillow, hiding from the daylight that was now flooding the basement. In the better light, it was very easy to see that Finn was nowhere to be found.

My stomach rolled. The basement door was right off of the kitchen. Either Finn had snuck out very early this morning, which was all but impossible, or he had never come home last night.

Then I had to laugh. Of course Finn hadn't come home last night. He and Noah had gotten drunk, and, rather then face my wrath, had drug themselves to Noah's house instead. Clever, but not clever enough. Finn was about to be in a world of hurt, starting right now.

What I couldn't know, of course, was the Finn was _already_ in a world of hurt, far more then I had ever dreamed of.

Nancy grumbled when I called the house phone. "Hello, Carole. Did our two little hellions end up there last night? Tell Noah that he's supposed to be watching his sister today."

The sick feeling returned, worse then ever. "They aren't with you? Because they aren't here."

She gave a heavy sigh. "Puck, really! This is the third time he's taken off in three months. I'm sorry he drug Finn along this time, though."

I was polite enough not to mention that her son's taking off always seemed to coincide with her getting a new boyfriend. I was upset enough to blurt it out, but I was having trouble making my mouth do anything except tell her goodbye and to call if the boys showed up.

I woke Burt, who woke Kurt, and we all set to calling around to find out wayward kid. No one had seen him. Over Burt's objections, I called the police. I knew my boy, and I knew that he hadn't run away.

For two days we all hung in the balance. If Finn had run, it wouldn't take long for him to see the error of his ways and call home, begging to be allowed back in. If he called, I had already told myself that I wouldn't be angry. I would rush to get him, wherever he was, and the four of us would have long, serious, talk about what was happening and how we were going to fix the problems between us. If I had to move out with Finn, and take things a little slower with Burt, I could do that. Finn needed to be my only priority right now.

Then they found Noah's body. Finn was gone. He wasn't going to call from Columbus, tired and hungry and ready to come home. He wasn't having a tantrum. He wasn't trying to pull one over on us. He was gone. Forever.

But not dead. That was one thing I was always sure of. If Finn was dead, I would know it. He was just….not here, and somehow, that was almost worse. Nancy had to bury her only son at 17 years old, but at least she knew where he was. All I had to hold on to was a hope that was getting dimmer by the day.

I couldn't function. I wasn't much a nurse at the hospital, I wasn't a partner to Burt, and I wasn't a mother to Kurt, who needed one more then ever. But I just couldn't. Suddenly, I was one of _those_ mothers.

Don't pretend that you don't know what I mean, either. Every time you hear about a mother who has something terrible happen to their child, whether the kid is snatched by the other parent, burned in the bathtub, or falls down the stairs and breaks an arm. You're sympathetic, of course. You cook a casserole, and you offer to babysit the unaffected children, but, deep down, you can't help but feel a little smug. Those things would never happen to _your_ baby. You put up gates and never leave them unattended in the bathtub. You made sure that your children understood stranger danger, and that no always means no. What sort of mother lets that happen?

Finn knew not to play with guns, or take drugs, or do any other number of foolish things. Yet I never thought to tell him not to stop a car for a woman in distress, especially one holding a baby. I protected Finn for almost 17 years, and all it took was two minutes for none of that to matter. What kind of mother lets her child be snatched by pedophiles? The kind that's too wrapped up in her new boyfriend to care.

When the pictures came, I didn't hesitate for a second. This was my son, and I would do whatever it took to get to him. If I had to sell myself on the street corner to get the money together, I would do it without a second thought.

The irony, of course, was that while I was in the air, headed for New Mexico, Finn was on the ground, going back to Lima. Somewhere, we crossed each other, each trying to get to the place where we thought the other was.

It got to be Kurt who found Finn. Kurt who held him first, and got him to the hospital, and stayed with him for those first 24 hours, until Burt and I could get home. I'm incredibly grateful to him, more then I can possibly express. A little jealous, that he was there for Finn when I couldn't be, but grateful none the less.

When we were finally reunited, I was shocked by how much he had changed in just four months. Physically, his body was hard and tense. He didn't mold to me like he used to, always keeping himself a little apart. Emotionally he boomeranged from being aloof and cold to clinging to me like a much younger child.

And he didn't talk. Finn talked early, and chattered happily to me for the next 15 years. If he couldn't command my attention, he would just as happily prattle away to his toys. As he got older, he was the kid who was always singing, especially when he didn't think I could hear him. His total silence was unnerving, but instinct told me that pushing him would be the completely wrong thing to do. Before I wouldn't have hesitated, but his needs were different now.

The problem was figuring out what he did need. Trauma had forced him to grow up in some ways. He did his own laundry and made his own lunches. I didn't have to carp at him about cleaning his room or make sure he showered every single day. He studied with Kurt and didn't complain about it. Most of the time, he was very mature and responsible.

But sometimes he wasn't. He suddenly wanted things that he hadn't asked for in years. Some of them were easy to grant. It was a very simple thing to set aside a half hour and read to him at night, even though he was more then capable of doing it on his own. Old favorites, too, like the Narnia books or the Wizard of Oz. Or he wanted me to rub his back before he fell asleep, which had stopped when he was 11.

Other things weren't so easy. He wanted to sleep with me, which just wasn't appropriate. The food thing made me crazy, and was a power play to boot, so I had to stop myself from catering to his every whim.

Then there were the things that were just heartbreaking. No, Finn wasn't talking. He hadn't done anything to indicate who had had him, or what they had done to him, but I'm not a stupid woman. I know what it means when two people steal a teenager, then keep him hidden for four months. I know why Finn freaks out the minute Burt so much as tries to make eye contact with him. So many times, I wanted to just pack Finn up and take him back to the old house. Burt was a big boy, and I knew that he would understand why.

But Kurt wouldn't. Sure, he would pretend to, and even that he didn't really care that we were gone, but I would know better. He's a smart boy, but he's so highly strung. Much more so then Finn, even knowing how Finn is these days. If I walk away from Kurt now, he'll spend the rest of his life believing that something is wrong with him, that he's the one who makes mothers leave. I love the boy, and I won't do that to him.

Plus, Finn has become so attached to Kurt. At first I was unsure, but the two of them really have bonded. Kurt helps Finn with his schoolwork almost every night, and they are constantly hanging around each other. Once they were able to form a relationship, a lot of the jealousy and over possessiveness of their biological parent settled down. Finn tells me now that he's happy that Kurt and I get along, and I don't sense a lie anywhere in that. Finn isn't bonded to Burt in the slightest, but maybe, if the way things went today is any indication, it's not too late. Maybe it will never be perfect, but Finn seems to have accepted that Burt is a part of both of our lives now, and can be at least counted on to not go after him for no reason. Sad is it is, that's huge progress.

Now things are changing again, in a totally unexpected way. I know Finn. I'm his mother and I know how he thinks. Which is why I know that he thinks he's in love with Kurt. Is he? That's the part I don't know, and that's why I'm not sure what I should be doing now.

In all of his 17 years, Finn has never shown even the slightest interest in men. He plays sports and rolls around in the mud, and can't match his own clothing to save his life. And yes, I know full well that gay men do all of those things as well. That for every type of straight man in the world, there is a man exactly like him, just attracted to his own gender.

It just isn't what I wanted for Finn. Not because there is anything wrong with being gay, because there isn't. Love is wonderful, no matter if you find it with your own gender, or the father one of your child's classmates. But there's this moment, one right after they put your new baby in your arms, that you look at them and pray that they will always have an easy life, that nothing will happen that makes them a target for other people. Unfortunately, there are few things in this world that create a bigger bulls eye then being a gay boy in a public high school.

Of course, it wasn't going to take long for word of everything that had happened to Finn to get out, and then there were be more then enough material for him to be tormented for the rest of his life. A little homosexuality would look like nothing in comparison.

I didn't bring it up to Finn directly. Doing so would horrify him if he wasn't having the feelings I thought he was, and humiliate him if he was. So I gently reminded him that I loved him, no matter what happened, and what choices he made in the world. He nodded and told me how much he loved me. After six months of not being able to hear those words, it was impossible to explain how wonderful they were.

Since confronting Finn was out of the question, I turned my attention to Kurt. If Finn had been in love with a girl, pseudo-stepsister or no, I would have wanted to speak to her and feel out her intentions. After Quinn, it was obvious that the boy needed a little help with figuring out who loved him and who was using him. And if he couldn't do it for himself, well, that was what mothers are for.

Just so we're completely clear, I did not ask Kurt to go shopping with me in order to grill him and make him miserable. I want Kurt to be just as happy as Finn. I would be lying if I didn't admit that there was a part of me that wished that he didn't have to find that happiness _with_ Finn, but that's neither here nor there. I couldn't make Finn's choices for him, but that didn't mean I was willing to be kept completely in the dark.

I asked him to go shopping because it was an activity that we both enjoyed, and I was still feeling the sting of residual guilt over just how neglected Kurt had been while we were chasing Finn from one side of the country to the other. And, I had to admit, that boy knew how to find clothing that made me look more beautiful then I had at 20. Who knew that a simple cut could make everything look different?

Ok, I might have wanted him out of the house when I asked him, for two main reasons. First of all, I didn't want Finn to know what was being discussed. You wouldn't believe that someone as large and as generally clumsy as Finn is could go unnoticed in a room, but he can. Sometimes I think he inherited a chameleon gene from Christopher, along with his height and those cinnamon colored eyes that make all the girls (and boys, apparently) fall for him.

The other reason had nothing to do with Finn at all. I just didn't want Kurt to be able to run away from me. He's a smart one, and if he can avoid the question, he will. But I had to know. If Kurt had good intentions towards Finn, I was inclined to let this play itself out.

I certainly hadn't meant to make him cry, though I've come to the conclusion that that isn't a difficult thing to do. He's just a sensitive boy, always worrying about everything. So I backed up a little, reminding him that I wasn't angry with him, but that I needed help understanding what was happening.

I have to hand it to him; Kurt can be a realist when he needs to. He wanted Finn, that much would have been clear to a blind man. But he was willing to put Finn first, even if Finn wanted nothing more then friendship. And really, wasn't that was love was? Putting someone else above yourself? So I told him he could try with Finn.

I still could have said no, of course. No, they weren't brothers in the physical sense. I wasn't married to Burt, and, unless either Burt or I were to adopt the others child, they weren't brothers in the legal sense either. But other people would see it as creepy and wrong. Add in the number of people who would say it was creepy and wrong because they were both boys, and it seemed like a disaster before things even got started.

But that wasn't for me to decide. Me forcing Finn to not be with Kurt was no different then those monsters forcing him to be with them. I had already messed up by invalidating his feelings once, I wouldn't do it again.

So now I played the waiting game. I didn't expect Kurt to come to me for anything, but I thought that Finn would at least give me a clue. But he didn't. He just went on being Finn, only more inscrutable. I meanwhile, was dying of curiosity. Had Kurt approached him? Had he turned him down? Or were the two of them carrying on a relationship right under my nose? Somehow, I doubted that. As I've said before, Finn has many lovely qualities, but subtlety is not one of them.

I even considered that he and Kurt's little tiff at today's therapy session was a lovers spat, but dismissed it quickly. What had happened was exactly what it looked like. Two boys who had never had to share anything, especially their parent, suddenly being forced to share almost everything.

Their spat also highlighted the fact that the only thing Burt and I were on the same page about was that we loved the boys and loved each other. We didn't agree on how to discipline, how much freedom each boy should be given, or how school problems should be handled. I had just assumed that this would fall into place, but the therapist had made it clear that that wasn't going to happen. It was something that would have to be addressed, but not right now. Not where the boys could hear.

I was ready to make them a snack, but Kurt grabbed Finn's arm and drug him downstairs without a second look. This was it, their big moment. I squeezed my eyes shut, sending a quick prayer to the man upstairs that, whatever happened, whatever each one of them chose, they were both willing to live with the consequences.


	27. Chapter 27

_**Honesty does not always bring a response of love, but it is absolutely essential to it.**__**  
**__**Ray Blanton**_

"You want to be with me. Like, as boyfriends, not as brothers." His tone didn't make it a question, but he seemed to be waiting for some kind of confirmation from me.

I unlocked my throat and put my chin up. "Yes. You know that. You've always known that, haven't you?"

He laughed a little. "Yeah. You aren't real….." The word seemed to have escaped him. "Uh, you know. Like…**you don't hide it very well."**

"Subtle." He gave me a funny look, and I hastened to clarify. "The word you're looking for is subtle."

"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "That."

This might be the most awkward conversation of my entire life, including the day I came out to my father, and we weren't even 30 seconds into it yet.

**"I can trust you, because you're my brother." **

Again, I wasn't sure if I was supposed to respond, or if he was just talking to himself. I waited, and this time, he kept on going.

"But if you're not my brother Kurt, and you're my boyfriend Kurt, how can I keep trusting you? You'll be different, and you can't be different."

Well, that made exactly zero sense. "I won't be different, Finn. I'll still be me, no matter what you choose."

"No you won't." Frustration oozed from his body, though I wasn't sure if he was frustrated with me for not understanding, or himself for his inability to properly explain things. "You'll want different things and you'll need different things and nothing will be the same as it is right now."

Th**ings being stable and the same had become incredibly important to Finn. He couldn't control what had happened, and he couldn't control anything that was about to happen with the trial, but he could control what happened in this house. Well, at least he could try. **

"Finn, honey, things can't ever stray the same as they were. Isn't that what we talked about the other night, and in our session today? That it frustrates you when people want everything to stay the same even though you know things are different?"

He nodded tentatively, his eyes nervous and untrusting. **"Well this is the same thing. Things are different between you and me then they were before you moved in, right?"**

Another nod. "And they're different then when you first moved in, before you got taken. And they're different now then they were after you got back and before you kissed me, right?" At each question, he nodded again**, the realization dawning in his expressive eyes. "So why are you so worried about things changing this time?"**

He shrugged. "It's just…."

"Just?" I didn't like pushing, but if I didn't prompt Finn sometimes, **nothing would ever happen.**

"You shouldn't have to." I gave him a questioning look and he tried to clarify. "Be with me, I mean."

"There isn't any 'have to' about it. I want to be with you because I _want_ to be with you, not because I feel that I must." I had lost control of this conversation, and I had no idea how to get it back**.**

** "No, that's not what I meant. I mean that you deserve someone better then me. There's got to be someone else that you could like, not just me."**

** Ah, this was a self-esteem issue. "I'll be the one to decide what I do and do not deserve. And yes, maybe there could be someone else, but that's a moot point. You're the one I want, that that's final. Now, if you don't want me back, I can accept that and move on. Is that what you're telling me? Because if it is, I would appreciate you being honest and just saying it."**

** Here it was, the moment of truth. My final statement required either a yes or no answer, no more fooling around. I knew it, and Finn knew it, too. "Finn? Do you want me or not?"**

"Yes." The word came out so softly that it was more a rush of air then an actual vocalization. "But I can't."

**Funny how I had never known that your heart could soar up over your head and then crash and shatter on the ground in the space of two sentences. "Why not?"**

"I….it's not fair. To you, I mean. You should be able to have someone who you can do everything together with. You know, first kiss and first time having sex and everything romantic." 

It was kind of sweet, the way he wanted to protect me, but I didn't need to be protected. "Again, that's my choice. Despite what you think, there's not a thing wrong with you, and I know that you can be perfectly romantic when you try."

He cocked his head, and I knew that he was really listening to what I was saying. Something in the way his jaw moved triggered a memory, and I found myself flashing back to **the way Carole had looked at me in the dimly lit restaurant****_. If you're willing to fight for him, then you have my approval. _****I hadn't realized that fighting for Finn might mean fighting ****_with_**** Finn, but I could do this. Finn wanted me. He had admitted that just a few seconds ago. Now I just had to get him to understand that he was worth fighting for.**

Finn kept staring at me, his mind almost visibly creaking as he tried to think of another way to scare me away. **Finally his eyes brightened. "Do you want to go your whole life without sex?"**

"Do you?" I was nowhere near ready to even consider having sex with anyone, including Finn, so it didn't seem like much of a hardship. "When you want to have sex, or even if you do, is a choice that's entirely up to you. No one can or should try and change your mind."

He sighed heavily and leaned back against the pillows. "You aren't making this easy for me."

**I reached out and smoothed his hair back, watching as his eyes fluttered shut from my touch. Right at this second, I had all the power in the world over him, and, what was more, he had willingly given it to me. That was something that those people, the Wrights, would never understand. They could force Finn to go with them, force him into sex, force him to do any number of frightening things, but they couldn't force trust. In that way, Finn and I were already more intimate then he had ever been or could ever be with them. **

For a few seconds I just stroked, letting Finn relax a little bit as I planned my next move. "This isn't supposed to be easy. Were things always easy with Rachel?"

He gave a tiny laugh. "No. Not even a little bit of the time. You're a lot quieter then her, too."

**"A stadium full of cats in heat would be quieter then Rachel Berry. But seriously Finn, we can do this however you want to."**

He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling, as if he thought he could find the answers written all over it's textured panels. His breathing sounded obscenely loud in the quiet of the basement, but I realized that that was only because my own had stopped. Finn was holding one foot over the abyss, and it had to be his own choice whether he would pull back or leap.

**_You could catch him. After all, it's not his body he'll be throwing into the chasm, it's his soul._**

"I can say stop?" Finn was starting to weaken, his body relaxing. "I can say stop, and you won't be mad at me?"

"Absolutely not. Whether you want to be with me or not, you should always have the option to tell someone to stop. If they don't give it to you, then they're taking advantage. You should never, ever, be ashamed or scared to tell someone that you don't want to do something or that you want to move more **slowly."**

** "Oh" He seemed to be lost in thought again, and I waited patiently. Then he smiled gently at me. "Can I kiss you again?"**

"Of course." I tried not to sound t**oo eager, and failed miserably. "I mean, if you want to." There, that was a little better.**

Finn smiled and leaned forward, brushing his lips over mine before licking gently. I opened my mouth cautiously and let him** deepen the kiss. Oh, God, he was good at this. I whimpered against his mouth, not sure what I was doing at all, but letting Finn take the lead. He seemed to like that, one hand coming up to pull me closer to him.**

My own hands were clenching and releasing, both held up slightly in front of me. What was I supposed to do with them? **I wanted to touch Finn, but I didn't want to scare him. Suddenly one of his hands touched my stomach, making me jump a mile. I wasn't ready for this, and I pushed him back a little. "Finn, enough."**

**"Sorry." He drew back. "I didn't know I was…."**

I wondered how often he had used that excuse on girls, or even if it really was an excuse. Finn had gone from being in two relationships where he wasn't allowed anywhere near second base, to one where he was not only allowed, but forced to do whatever that man wanted. Was it any wonder that he didn't have a clue how to properly behave now?

"It's alright." I tried to spin things so he would feel better. **"It's just that I've never done this before, so I'm nervous." **

Judging from his dilated eyes and tense body, Finn was far more nervous then I was. **I stroked his hair again, making him sigh. "Really? You've never done this before?"**

His sincerity made me laugh. "Who do you think I would do this stuff with? You get to be my very first kiss."

**"Oh. It was ok, though, right?" **

"It was perfect." I gave him a moment to enjoy that and kept going. "But I think we need to talk a little more and kiss a little less."

**"Sure. What do we want to talk about?" He leaned back against the headboard, and I sat next to him. **

** This had to be handled very delicately. "I don't think that we should tell Dad and Carole. Or anyone else for that matter. Not yet, anyway."**

** "How come?" He sounded curious, but not irritated at the thought. "Do you think they'll be all pissed and say we can't?"**

** Honestly, I had no idea what Dad would say, but I could guess that it would be loud. "No. Your mother already said that she didn't mind. It's just that I want to take things very slowly, at your pace. If everyone knows, they'll want to try and tell us how to go at their pace, and that won't work." I reached for his hand again, and he gave it willingly. "Can't we just be you and I for a little bit?"**

Finn was very quiet, his fingers stroking over mine. "Mom knows? You _told_ her?"

"Not exactly. **Do you remember when she and I went out shopping last week?" He looked totally blank, so I tried again. "When you went over to Mr. Shue's and made those really good cookies?"**

** He nodded enthusiastically. "We need to make those again. I'll bet we could use peppermint chips, too, and that would be great and-"**

** "Finn! Do you want to hear the story or do you want to think about chocolate?"**

** "Story." His long-suffering tone told me that he was saying it because** he knew that it was the right answer, and not because it was actually what it wanted. "I _guess_."

"Anyway. She asked me if I wanted to be with you, and I said that I did, but that I didn't think you wanted to be with me. But she thought that maybe you did, and she said that as long as you were happy and alright with things, then she was, too." 

That threw him, and he was momentarily silenced while he thought about it. Then he gave a soft sigh. "Well, Mom's going to be ok with it, because she's my Mom, and she's awesome like that. But your Dad is going to _hate_ me."

"He won't. How many times to I have to tell you that he loves you Finn, and he won't ever hate you?"

The look Finn gave me then told me that he wanted very badly to believe me, but that he just wasn't ready yet. I decided to let the matter drop, at least for now. "You're safe with Dad, Finn, but we don't have to tell him right now. Which is another reason we can't tell Carole. It's not fair to tell one of our parents and not the other."

"Fine. But if we aren't telling anyone that means you can't tattle to Mercedes either. Just you and me means just you and me." His eyes were locked on mine, leaving no doubt as to his seriousness.

But I told Mercedes everything. Without her, I wouldn't have survived the past 6 months. Not to mention that I had no idea where to go from here, no matter how brave of an act I was putting on for Finn. But if I let him see that I was as afraid as he was, then this was going to fall apart. "But…."

One of his eyebrows rose like it was attached to an invisible string. I stopped, because there was really nothing for me to say to that. "Ok. I won't tell Mercedes either. But what if she guesses?"

"Don't lie. I've already been Josephs' dirty little secret, I'm not about to become yours. But its-"His voice broke as tears welled up in his eyes. "It's not _fair_."

"What isn't fair, Cowboy?" I couldn't understand why he had suddenly gotten so worked up. Yes, he had brought Joseph up, but usually that wasn't enough to cause this level of upset.

"You have Mercedes. She's your best friend and you can tell her everything. I don't have anyone any more." He snuffled at little and wiped at his eyes. "I miss Puck and I don't want him to be dead."

Finn had been trying to cope with so much recently that Puck and his murder had slipped to the back of my mind. But this was good, right? As painful as it was for him, Finn was starting to grieve, and that was a necessary step in getting mentally healthy again. I rubbed his shoulder. "I know, baby, and I'm sorry that you're hurting."

He leaned against me but didn't say anything. I searched through my mind, trying to think of someone, anyone, that he could share his secrets with. There was no one. Finn and Puck's relationship was often strained, but they had the easy familiarity that came from loving and depending on each other since they were little boys. It was a relationship that could be neither replicated nor dismissed. Finally he shook his head and gave me a weak smile. "It'll be ok."

I wasn't sure that I believed him, but I knew enough to know when to let go. "Yes, it will. Maybe not right away, but in the end."

"Hope so." He went quiet then, and I respected it, shifting so we were snuggled together. No matter what else was happening, Finn liked to be close to someone. I kissed his cheek, and he smiled again.

15 full minutes passed, with both of us just sitting there, before I spoke again. "Can you keep talking, or do you need to quit?"

"I guess we can keep going." He stretched lazily and sat back up. "About what?"

This was going to have to be phrased very delicately, so as not to upset him. "I know you told me what happened while you were in New Mexico, Finn, and I'm really glad that you trusted me enough to do that. You don't have to tell me anything that you don't want to, but there are some things I need to know. So we can be safe."

He bristled. "I am safe! The doctors did like a hundred tests and said that I don't have AIDS or anything like that. I wouldn't do anything to make you sick." He was angry now, pulling away from me.

I grabbed his arm. "Easy Cowboy, that isn't what I meant."

_Good job phrasing it delicately._

He sat back next to me, though he didn't snuggle and his tension didn't ease. "What do you mean, then?" 

"What I meant to ask was if there was something that I maybe should or shouldn't do? I don't want to do anything that upsets you or remind you of…_him_." I could say his name in my head, but, when it came to saying things out loud, Joseph had become he-who-must-not-be-named.

Finn went quiet, looking down. When he spoke, it was in a very low voice. "So I don't hit you like I did your Dad?"

I wasn't going to let him goad me. "No, I don't think you would hurt me. I just don't want you to be upset. I want this to be good for both of us."

There was another long silence, while Finn picked at my comforter. "Sometimes he would scare me."

"Like Dad did?"

"Yeah. Sometimes he would grab me and wake me up, just like your Dad did. He wouldn't always make me do something with him, and he didn't do it every night, but he did it a lot. Sometimes he would do it more then once in a night, sometimes he wouldn't do it for a week. He just did it to make me scared to fall asleep."

"Oh." I wasn't sure what else to say. "I'm sorry."

He wasn't paying any attention to me." I guess that's not really a sex thing, though." Now he was visibly squirming. "If I tell you something else, will you promise not to freak out or anything? Cause, it's kind of bad and I didn't tell you it before."

There was a part of me that still couldn't believe that there was anything worse then what he had told me so far. A small, naïve, stupid part of me. The rest knew that things could always get worse.

_I can think of two dozen ways that things could have been worse for Finn. Do you want me to start listing them?_

No, I didn't. I just wanted that voice to shut up long enough so that Finn could tell me himself. "I promise."

"He didn't hurt me." The words were a quick rush.

There was no way I had heard that right. "Excuse me?" My tone betrayed my shock, and Finn flinched.

"H-he didn't hurt me. Not like you probably think he did." His entire body crumpled, his eyes begging me for understanding.

My voice wavered a bit, but the words were strong. "How so?"

"He never hit me or anything. Not even once. He hit Lily once that I saw, and I she sometimes had bruises that I could see, but he never was mean to me that way. Except for when Lily hit me with the taser, she was never mean to me like that either." There was more that he wanted to say, I could read it in the way his hands kept twisting together.

"I'm glad." He seemed to have relaxed a bit, so laid my head on his shoulder. "I hate to think of you ever being hurt or frightened."

"He, uh, he didn't hurt me the other way either." He must have seen the confusion in my face, because he tried again. "When he…" There was a pause while he took a deep breath. "When he raped me. He didn't make me bleed or hurt me on purpose."

I tried to think about what had happened to Finn as little as possible. But, when the thoughts crept into my head, I had been imagining blood and pain and that man causing Finn the most amount of suffering possible. Rape was brutal, a terrible violation. How could it have not been violent? "He didn't?"

"No. I mean, yeah, it kind of hurt when he fucked me, but Samantha said that it always kind of hurts, even if you actually like the person who's doing it. She said it wouldn't hurt every time if I was with someone I liked, because I wouldn't get so tense, but that it would probably always hurt a little the first time." His face had turned bright red.

_If he can't even talk about it without turning six shades of purple, what makes you think he'll ever want to have sex with you?_

I didn't care whether or not Finn ever wanted to have sex with me. Well, maybe a little, but that was something that would happen in time. "Oh." I lightly scratched his spine, feeling the soft shivers going up and down his body. "I wish I had some helpful advice, but I really know nothing about sex, other then the basics."

"That's good. I mean, you shouldn't have to know unless you're ready to be with someone."

"I'm not." I wanted to stress that, so Finn wouldn't feel like I wanted to, despite my words. 

"Then we're good, right?" He squirmed. "Can we maybe not talk about this any more? It's making my stomach kind of funny."

With the way Finn internalized stress; he was going to be lucky if he made it through the trial without a bleeding ulcer. "Of course we can stop. Rome wasn't built in a day, and we don't have to figure everything out at once either." I hated to ask the last part, but there was a part of me that still couldn't believe that this was actually happening. "Can we just lay here for a little while, though, even if we don't talk? I'm just having a very hard time believing that this is real."

"Yeah, I know what that's like." His voice was faint, but he snuggled against me agreeably. It took a few minutes for us to lay down and find a position where we were both comfortable. "He wanted to snuggle with me, too, but I wouldn't." The words were whispered in my ear.

"He did?" I wasn't sure if Finn's comment had needed a response, but I wanted him to know that I was listening.

Finn nodded against my shoulder. "The first couple of times, I tried, because I didn't want him to be all pissed off at me and hurt me, but I couldn't. Every time he touched me, I'd get all tense and have trouble breathing. It made him mad, but I think he was scared I'd freak out and stop breathing, and then he would have to call 911. So he would just make me go back to my room after. I don't think that Lily liked cuddling with him either, but that's probably because he's a huge creep and a pervert."

"Yeah, well, so we she." I couldn't keep the anger out of my voice. Finn tensed, the same way he always did when Lily was brought up. I didn't understand why he was willing to accepting that Joseph had assaulted him without question, and that it wasn't his fault, but he had such a hard time accepting that Lily had done the exact same thing.

_Because she's a woman, that's why. And you know who else is going to have a hard time believing what happened? A jury. No matter what actually happened, there are going to be some people who see this as a teenage boys dream. An experienced older woman who was willing to have sex with him? Hot for teacher? Stiflers Mom? It's not only acceptable, it's funny._

And there was nothing I could do to change that. Whether Finn knew it or not (and I strongly suspected that he didn't), he was going to have a much harder time getting Lily convicted then he would Joseph.

But I wasn't going to tell him that. Right now, I just wanted for it to be Finn and I enjoying each other's company for the first time. "You like snuggling with me, though, don't you?"

"Dude, of course. You're like the best snuggler in the world, even though you're really tiny." He kissed the top of my head. "You have the softest skin, too."

Bless his heart, he had actually noticed. "I moisturize, which not only hydrates my skin but prevents future wrinkles."

"Oh. Uh…cool?" Finn shifted around so he was on his back with my head on his chest. "I mean, that you know about all that stuff. I'm just going to quit talking now."

That was probably a good idea. I kissed his jaw, and got a pleased rumble in return. Being quiet and together sounded just perfect right now.

I might be the happiest I had ever been, but happiness didn't make me a fool. This didn't mean that Finn magically loved me. It didn't mean that he was healed, or even better then he had been two hours ago. When we got up and out of this bed, Finn was still going to be afraid of Dad, still going to have to testify at the trial when it occurred, and Puck would still be dead. All that had changed was that Finn was willing to try something with me.

_Isn't that enough? Good God, Kurt! This is exactly what you've been waiting for, and all you can do is be negative. Why don't you quit focusing on what Finn can't do and think about what he can?_

Sometimes, that voice had a point. Maybe, for once in my life, I should quit worrying and just accept things as they were. Finn certainly had. He was the picture of relaxation, his eyes closed and one hand loose on my back. I rested my own on his chest, my fingers barely grazing his collarbone. No, things weren't perfect. Maybe they would never be perfect. But right at the moment? They were pretty darn close.


	28. Chapter 28

_**So many times life is unpredictable. You have good days, and bad days, and, in the end, all that matters is who is still there, by your side**_

_**Author Unknown**_

Finn might not have liked cuddling when Joseph offered, but he certainly liked doing it with me. It had taken a few minutes for us to find the right position, one where none of his limbs were cramped up and I could still be close, but once we did it felt…right. It felt like I could do this forever, and not even miss the outside world.

Except that I had to keep one ear open for our parents at all times. Carole, at least, was good about knocking before opening the door, but there was always the chance that Dad might blunder down, or she would assume that we were sleeping and come down anyway.

But no one did. I hoped that the two of them were upstairs talking about what had happened at therapy today, as opposed to doing…other things. The horror of what might actually be happening up there made me shudder, which made Finn look over. "What's wrong?"

There was no reason for both of us to be burdened with that horrible mental image. "Just a cold chill."

He adjusted the blankets so I was covered up. "There you go. God, I hope they're not doing _it_ up there. That would just be….ew."

His face made me laugh. He kept going before I could think of a reply. "I mean, probably not, because they're old and shit, and old people don't do it very much. Plus, we're in the house, and they wouldn't do that to us."

I didn't believe that, but I was willing to let him keep thinking that. "They're probably just talking."

"Sure." I could tell that he didn't believe it either, but we were both going to pretend. Luckily, though, he had let it go, and just relaxed against me. I stroked his back and shoulders as soothingly as I could, never going below the bottom of his rib cage, just letting him get used to the feeling of my hands on his body. He all but purred, resting one hand on my stomach and his chin in my shoulder. Every once in a while, he would shift up so he could kiss my lips or cheek, lazy and gentle. It was so incredibly sweet and I felt like all of my dreams were coming true.

Which was why it was such a shock when Finn had a screaming nightmare later that night, the first he had had since he got back. I shot out of bed and started to reach for him, but then pulled back. It was my fault that he was so upset. I had encouraged him to pursue something sexual with me, and that was stirring up old memories and trauma.

"Kurt?" I was the most pitiful whimper I had ever heard, the sound of abject misery in the dark. "Where are you?"

I came back to his side and stroked his cheek. "I'm here, Sweetheart. Are you ok?"

"Yeah." The shaking hand that was currently fisted in my pajama top belied his words, but I didn't call him on it. He coughed a few times, then laid back. "Can I have some water?"

"Of course." I grabbed his cup from the nightstand and took it into the bathroom, running the water until it got cold. From the doorway, I could see Finn still sitting up in bed. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I kind of lost it, Dude." He rubbed at his eyes and yawned tiredly. "I think…I think there was a wolf. A big one with white eyes."

I wondered if the wolf was a metaphor for something bigger. Wolves were big, and sneaky, and hunters. Was Joseph the wolf? He had stalked and hunted Finn like an animal.

_Or maybe Finn's been watching werewolf movies again. Do your dreams always make sense? _

Good point. Finn was all but asleep by the time I made it back out, but he accepted the cup and drank deeply. "Thanks."

I took the cup back and returned it to the nightstand. "No problem. Do you….do you want me to rub your back?" I had been about to ask him to come sleep with me, but thought better of it at the last second.

"Yeah, that's good." From the way his eyelids were fluttering, I kind of doubted that he was going to last more then a few minutes. I sat on the edge of the bed, adjusting his covers, and stroked gently. He relaxed almost instantly. "You're the best."

"I am pretty wonderful." I'm not sure if he heard me or not, since his breathing had gone quiet and steady. I patted him for a few more seconds, but stood back up when it became clear that he wasn't going to wake up. Having at least 8 and a half hours of sleep a night was the key to clear skin and not getting wrinkles, and I had already lost quite a bit.

The next morning, Finn woke up before both me and the alarm, and took the opportunity to climb into bed and wake me up with a gentle kiss on the lips. Morning breath be damned, I pecked him back. "You're up early."

"Well, yeah. First Rachel's coming over, which might be really cool or it might kind of suck. Then, if your Dad gets off in time, we're going to go to the pet store and get my rat! This is, like, the most exciting day ever. Or maybe tomorrow, if your Dad can't come today."

Ug. Why did he have to bring up Rachel? I stretched out and tried to think happy thoughts to take my mind off of the horrors that were likely to be happening in just a few hours.

_How about the fact that you have Finn and she doesn't? Does it get any more delicious then that?_

No it didn't. I sat up and stretched again, working out all the kinks. Finn bounced eagerly. "I made you some breakfast. It's a cut up grapefruit and yogurt with fruit and that stuff that looks like hamster food!"

I squinted. "Do you mean granola?"

"Yeah, hamster food!" He looked so ridiculously pleased with himself that I had to laugh. "What did you make for yourself?"

"Eggs with cheese and bacon. I ate them upstairs, though, because otherwise you nag." He handed me the tray that I was just now noticing on the dresser. "I drank milk and orange juice, though, so it was totally healthy. Oh, and my toast was the kind with the little crunchy bits in it, so that was healthy, too."

"Your definition of 'healthy' is a bit skewed. But thank you very much for making breakfast. Do you want to snuggle again while I eat?" I was desperately hoping that he would agree.

"Sure." He grabbed the big pillow off of his bed and arranged things so we were propped up side by side. He didn't appear to be suffering in the slightest from his restless night, and I told him so. He shot me a confused look. "What do you mean?"

Had he been that out of it last night? I shot him an incredulous look. "You don't remember having a nightmare last night and waking me up?"

"No?" His eyes searched mine, trying to figure out if I was kidding him or not. "I'm sorry if I woke you up."

I leaned against his shoulder. "It's fine. If you need me for any reason, I don't want you to hesitate. You really don't remember telling me all about the white eyed wolf?"

One eye squinted. "I remember the wolf. Kind of. But I didn't know that it was a dream, and I don't remember waking up."

"That's probably for the best." He had thoughtfully broken the grapefruit into sections, so I offered him one. He nibbled delicately, his eyes distant. I probed lightly, trying to figure out what was wrong. "Are you feeling ok?"

"Yeah, I feel ok." He yawned lazily.

"Are you nervous about Rachel coming over?" I would be nervous about having to deal with her face to face, and I didn't have the issues that Finn did.

He squirmed, and I knew I had scored a direct hit. "Uh-huh."

"Don't be. She won't hurt you, and, if she tries, I'll kick her ass." That declaration earned me a smile. "Do you want me to stay with you?" 

"Maybe just at first. If it goes ok, then you don't have to stay or anything, but could you just be my wing man for a little bit?" He looked so worried that I knew I couldn't have denied him anything, even if he hadn't been mine.

"Of course. You do remember that we aren't telling anyone, though, right? About us, I mean." As thrilling as being able to rub it in Rachel's face might be, I had to show a little restraint.

"Right. I mean, I want to see her, and I'm super excited, but I'm kind of nervous, too. It's almost like Christmas or something." He was jittering nervously, and it was making it hard to eat. I stilled him by feeding him another piece of grapefruit.

If I was going to face Rachel Berry, I was damn well going to do it looking fantastic. "Finn, did you take your shower already?"

His eyes narrowed. "No. Why, do I stink?" He smelled himself quickly.

"No, you smell fine. I just need extra time in the bathroom today, so you're going to have to skip your shower, or there won't be time. Rachel is coming at 10, right?" 

"Right." He leaned over and kissed me one more time. "You, uh, have fun doing whatever it is you do in there. I'm going to go play some video games."

"Alright, Cowboy, I appreciate it." The look he gave me was unusually fixed, and I smiled nervously. "What?"

"You call me that. Cowboy, I mean. You always called me that." His voice was strange, and I couldn't tell if he was happy or not.

"I do. Do you have objections to that nickname?" I hoped not, because it was how I always addressed him in my mind, but I was willing to change it if he wasn't happy.

His lips moved, forming the nickname. "No, I like it. It's just kind of weird, because I've never really had a nickname before, probably because my name is so short. Except Quinn would call me 'stupid' sometimes."

"Bitch." The word came out before I could check it, but Finn didn't seem to mind in the slightest.

"It's ok. I mean, I am pretty stupid. I can't do algebra, or remember stuff for history, or even tie my own shoes half the time. But that doesn't matter. I know how to stay alive, and I know to never give up, and those things are just as important. Maybe more. Because I can learn algebra or how to tie my shoes eventually, but once you give up, it's over for you."

And he thought that he was stupid. "You're right about all of that, Finn. There's nothing wrong with your intelligence, no matter what anyone says." I kissed him on the cheek, wondering even as I did it if I was moving too quickly. I had never kissed him before, always letting him take the lead. He stiffened, but settled almost before I could blink. "That's good." His voice was barely a whisper, and I'm not sure if he intended to speak or not.

I tickled his ribs lightly, my fingers slipping underneath his shirt. "I'm glad. Now up so I can make myself gorgeous before Rachel gets here. I will not have her seeing me looking anything but my best."

He grinned. "Ok. I'm going to go upstairs. Go do your…stuff."

I spent an extra long time in the shower, putting on my facial mask for extra glow. I considered touching myself, but decided against it for now. Ever since what had happened on the day we went to the police station, I was a little afraid that Finn might burst in at any second. Him seeing my with my dick in my hand was not exactly taking things slowly. Since he still got nervous if doors were locked, I couldn't even count on that keeping him out.

It took a while for the mask to set, so I washed and conditioned my hair, singing softly to myself while I did it. "I think it's gonna be alright. Yeah, the worst is over now. The morning sun is shining like a red rubber ball."

The words weren't true. At least I didn't believe them to be. We still had a trial to get through, and our junior year of high school and the very beginnings of a sexual relationship. But, just like Finn had said, we had hope, and we had the will to survive and that counted for an awful lot.

With those thoughts still swirling around in my head, I rinsed myself off and stepped out of the shower. A quick peek into the bedroom revealed that Finn was nowhere to be found, probably still off killing zombies, so I slipped into my bathrobe and sat down at the vanity to do my face up. My fingers closed on the tube of concealor, but then I remembered the way Finn's fingers had felt trailing over my nose and cheeks. He liked the freckles, which was a point in their favor. Reluctantly, I let go of the tube, opting for just sunscreen instead. They would probably want to go outside and some point, and it literally took minutes for me to start to burn.

Once face matters were attended to, I chose a brand new outfit (not that Rachel would have any idea if the outfit was new or not. Please, have you _seen_ how that girl dresses?) and examined myself critically in the full length mirror. Why yes, this look did say 'bitch, you better behave yourself around my man because I will not hesitate to claw your eyes out. Also, don't I look great in red?' A quick check of the clock revealed that it was 9:45, so I was right on time.

With a satisfied grin, I crept up the steps, barely feeling like I was touching each one. My extreme stealthiness might have been why Finn didn't hear me coming, which was probably what led to him not getting off the phone immediately. He had one hand cupped over the receiver, his body pressed as close to the phone itself as he could get. "No, behind it." There was a pause while whoever was on the other line spoke, and his head shook. "I don't know. I don't know. I have to go, Kurt's coming up soon. Bye." He turned and saw me standing there, and his eyes went wide with shock.

I was trying to control my own surprise. "Hi, Finn. Who were you talking to?" 

He looked down and mumbled into the kitchen tiles. "Officer Ready."

The police officer from New Mexico? "How come? Did he call here or did you call him?"

"I called him. I, uh, remembered something he needed to know." His lie was obvious, but, judging by his red ears, I was willing to bet that it came from shame instead of an actual desire to hide things from me.

With that in mind, I stepped gently. "Oh. Do you want to tell me about it?"

"Not just now." He didn't sound very hopeful about it, though.

There was no need for that. I had already promised him that I wouldn't force him to do anything he didn't want to, and that included talking. Not to mention that I had no desire to stress him out further when I knew that Rachel coming was going to be hard enough for him. "Ok. Maybe you'll feel like telling me later."

"I guess. Maybe when we snuggle tonight." Apparently, in Finn's mind, snuggling was going to become part of the nightly routine, just like brushing teeth and changing into pajamas. Not that I had any objections to that. Nope, not at all.

"Only if you want to. Now, do you have any plans for today, or are we just going to play it by ear?" To be perfectly frank, I had no idea what sort of things Rachel might enjoy doing, (other then Finn of course, and that wasn't about to happen) and I had very little desire to learn them, either.

"I don't know. I don't know how long she wants to stay, so I'm not sure what to do. Maybe we could watch a movie. Not a musical, though, just a regular one."

I scratched his back lightly. "I'm almost certain that Rachel Berry doesn't realize that movies come in the non-musical variety, but it's worth a try."

He chuckled "That's not true. We watched Harry Potter one time. But, yeah, usually there's singing." His head tipped towards the door and he took a steadying breath. "I think she's here."

Maybe. I didn't hear cloven hooves, and the refrigerator magnets hadn't rearranged themselves into a pentagram, but I did feel an uncomfortable prickling at the back of my neck, the sensation made worse by the ringing doorbell. I put on a happy face. "That she is. Go open the door."

Finn did so, all of his nerves seeming to vanish and a soft smile lighting his features. Usually all I got was that smirky half grin, even though his natural smile was gorgeous. Why was it that Rachel could get him to smile and I couldn't?

My train of thought was interrupted by Finn flinging the door open, revealing all five feet of Rachel Berry, and the two foot tray she was clutching. She shoved it into my arms and gave Finn a tight hug. "I missed you."

"Missed you, too." He was clearly telling the truth, even though he made it sound like he was just talking about the time she had been away, instead of the time he had. "How was France?"

Her jaw dropped, and I realized that I should have called her before this, just like I had with Mercedes and clued her in to what she could expect from Finn. His refuge was denial, and it was going to take a while before he could open up to her and even acknowledge what had happened to him. It had taken over a month for him to open up to us, and we were family. He still didn't say much to Mercedes, though suspected Tina had been told more then she was letting on. Rachel didn't stand a chance in prying any of his secrets out of him. I tried to catch her eye, but she wasn't looking in my direction.

"France was fine, but I wanted to talk about you." She was wavering now, frightened by his oddly calm demeanor.

"How come? Lima still sucks and New Mexico wasn't much fun either. I'd rather hear about the Lube. Was it fun?"

"The…oh, I think you mean the Louve, Finn. The museum? Didn't you learn about this in your language class?" She was making that overindulgent face that both Finn and I saw right through.

"Louve? That's how you say it?" Finn's face fell. "I'm guessing it doesn't have the sort of stuff I thought it did."

"If you're implying that I was in some sort of kinky French sex museum, no, it doesn't. The Louve has the Mona Lisa and other beautiful works of art in it."

"Oh. How was the Mona Lisa chick? Does she really stare at you no matter where you're standing?" He seemed so genuinely interested that Rachel was mollified.

"She does. But I really wanted to talk about you and what-"I tapped my foot sharply on the floor and our eyes finally met. My glare was fierce enough that it shut her up instantly. "But we'll have plenty of time to talk later. I baked you my special sugar cookies for you, your favorite kind. I even used the pink lemonade frosting"

"Awesome!" Finn took the tray from me and helped himself to a cookie. He swallowed it in one gulp and set the remaining cookies down on the table. "Can I get something for you to drink? You, too, Kurt." His manners were kicking in a little late, but at least they were kicking in.

"Iced tea please." I knew that Finn could make it exactly how I liked, with the correct amount of Splenda and a quick twist of lemon. He nodded at me.

"Just water. I have to keep my voice in shape for this upcoming year. Anything but water can coat my vocal cords and cause problems."

Was I imagining the smug look she shot me? I grabbed a cookie and made a show of licking it slowly; making sure that she could clearly see the upraised middle finger that was propped against the back of it. Now a smirk twisted her features, and I was thankful that Finn had turned his back to get out drinks.

_She knows, baby boy. Maybe not that Finn's picked you over her, but she looks at you and she sees her competition_.

She and I had also agreed that we wouldn't fight in front of Finn, and now we were breaking that promise less then two minutes after she arrived. The problem was, I didn't know how to fix it.

_You being here is like waving the red flag in front of the bull. If you leave, she won't feel as threatened, and she'll be less likely to upset Finn. Don't go far, but don't hover either. You've had Finn all to yourself for months; let her have a few hours._

Except I had tried that with Quinn, and it had nearly resulted in Finn having a nervous breakdown. What if Rachel did something similar?

_She won't. Finn's stronger now, more accepting of what's happening. He won't let himself be pushed into another breakdown._

I had to trust in that voice, since it hadn't led me wrong yet. I gave Finn's shoulder a quick squeeze and grabbed my iced tea. "Thank you, Finn. Rachel, it was nice seeing you, but I'm afraid I have things to do. Cowboy, when you're done with…whatever it is you're doing, you know where to find me."

If he had given even the smallest indication that he wanted me to stay, I would have swallowed my pride and done it, but he just nodded and pushed the cookie tray towards me. "Take some cookies, at least. They're really good."

I accepted a few, more to gall Rachel then because I actually wanted them or needed the calories, and retreated back down to the basement. This was for Finn. I was willing to come down here instead of staying upstairs because it was what was best for him. I was doing this for Finn. I was…..God I was irritated. Why did making things right for Finn always have to hurt so much? 

_Because you love him. You want to be able to make everything easy and ok for him, but you can't. All you can do is love him and pray that he eventually becomes strong enough to make it ok for himself._

My inner musings were interrupted by Finn calling down the stairs. "Kurt! We're going to watch a movie! Do you want to watch with us?"

I couldn't tell if that was a covert call for help or if he was just being friendly, but I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. "Coming!"

Much to my surprise, the movie wasn't a musical. Rachel had actually chosen The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, which she had brought from home. Finn was sitting in the middle of the couch, so I sat on his left, snaking my hand in between his back and the cushion, trying to gauge his tension. He seemed alright. Rachel was ignoring me in favor of tying to explain the plot of the movie to Finn, like he was too stupid to follow along on his own.

"Rach, I know." Before everything that had happened, Finn would have sounded frustrated with her. Now he just sounded amused, as if this was no longer worth being upset about. "I've read the book, I know what happens."

"Really?" She looked dumbfounded, as though the thought of him actually reading anything was something she couldn't quite comprehend. Honestly, I was surprised, too, but at least I was able to hide it.

"Well, Mom and I did. When I was little she used to read to me every night, a chapter from a book. Then, when I could read, we would take turns. I've read all of the Narnia books."

I know that Finn didn't mean it, because he hated the thought of hurting anyone's feelings, but his words caused a sharp pain somewhere near my heart. My mother had read to me, too, every night until she got too sick to keep going. Then I had read to her, always hoping that, one day, she would be better enough to take over and do it herself. Only that had never happened.

"Well, if you have any questions, feel free to ask. You know I'm here to help you with _any_ of your problems." That was about as subtle as Rachel got, which might have still been a little too much for Finn to grasp.

"Sure." His tone gave no clues about whether he got it or not.

The previews started, and I suddenly realized that this was the position that Rachel and I always found ourselves in. Me on one side, her on the other, Finn in the middle. He was our tug toy, the one thing that was both desperately wanted. The problem was, he was the only thing _I_ wanted. If I could have Finn, I would be fine with giving up all the solos, and the prestige (well, not that the Glee club had much, but still), and the damn ability to make myself heard. Rachel wanted Finn and everything else as well. That was why she would never be happy.

_Kurt, I need you to dial down the bitch, ok? You already have Finn. There's no reason in the world for you to keep fighting Rachel for him_.

Only I didn't quite feel like Finn was mine, yet. I had no idea what it would take to make me feel that he was, but it hadn't happened yet. I didn't want to force Finn into anything, but I just…I don't know. Maybe I just needed a chance to get used to the idea.

As the movie progressed, I noticed that Finn was leaning ever so slightly towards me. It wasn't enough that Rachel noticed, but I certainly did. I touched his hip lightly, trying to acknowledge that I was here, and that I understood his gesture.

Abruptly, he stood. "I gotta pee. Can I get anyone a refill?"

I handed him my glass. "Wash your hands before you do it."

He rolled his eyes. "I always wash my hands, you nag. Rach, anything?" She shook her head and he took my glass back to the kitchen.

She looked after him, her eyes troubled. "He's very different now."

My stomach sank. I had actually thought that Finn was doing well. He was laughing a little and being socially appropriate, even asking a few questions. But she saw something different.

_Of course she does. Her last memories of Finn were happy ones, with the group planning for Regionals, and eventual victory. When she looks at Finn, she remembers that boy, the one that's gone now. When you look at him, you remember how he looked there on the front porch, so exhausted and beaten that he could barely stand up. You see all the progress he's made, she sees how broken he still is._

I leaned my head back against the couch. "What did you expect?"

"I don't know." There was no anger in her voice, just confusion. "I have no idea what to expect, or to do. I though that as soon as I saw him, I would just feel the music, and just know what to do for him, just like I always do, but I didn't."

As much as I wanted to snort derisively, I got it. Both she and I felt like we knew Finn inside and out, and it hurt to find out that neither one of us knew him at all. At least we didn't now.

"No one knows what to do for Finn right now." I didn't want to do it, but I made myself keep going. "It's good that you came at all. At least you're trying, instead of treating him like he's contagious with something. And we have a shot with him. I mean, he's still here, and you'll figure out what he needs again."

When she looked at me, I saw something in her eyes that I had never seen there before, but that I had seen reflected in both Finn's eyes and my own. It was an adult look, one that said that you no longer believed that everything would be magically be ok. It was a grown up look on a girls face, and it was sad. "Yeah, I'm sure I will. You know, you haven't done much to help matters."

That stung. My voice tried to rise, and I forced it to stay a strained whisper. "What is that supposed to mean? I've been here all summer, taking care of him! You were prancing around Europe!"

Her eyes blazed, and I found myself shrinking back. Her voice, when she spoke, wavered between furious and pathetic. "That's right, Kurt. I was in Europe, crying myself to sleep every night because I thought Finn was dead. Every single night, I prayed that they would find him, and that he would be alive, and that someone would let me know what was happening. But no one did. He was here for almost 6 weeks, and you didn't even bother to call."

"I couldn't! I know you want what's best for Finn, but he needed his family." The words sounded like a cheap justification now. At the time, I had been able to convince myself that I was just trying to surround Finn with his family, the people that he loved the best, but that wasn't the entire truth. The truth was that I had wanted Finn all to myself.

"You still could have called. We might not have been together, and we might never be together again, though I'm guessing we will, but he's my best friend regardless. How would you feel if you had to spend over a month wondering if Mercedes was in pain, or frightened, or suffering in any way, or even dead and rotting in a shallow grave? Then it turned out that she and I had been giggling and painting each others toenails the entire time?"

The thought of losing Mercedes, my first and sometimes only friend made my head ache. "Finn and I weren't exactly painting each other's toenails. We were doing fun things like going to therapy and learning sign language because he wasn't talking."

_That's weak, even for someone as good at self-delusion as you are. Accept that you were thoughtless, apologize, and move on. This is a fight that you aren't going to win._

"Rachel, you're right. I was wrong and horrible to keep this from you and I have no real excuse. I'm sorry."

Her mouth opened like she was intended to keep right on going, but nothing came out. Finally, she nodded. "That means a lot to hear you say that."

Was it really that easy? A simple admission of my guilt, and a heartfelt 'I'm sorry'? Had I known it was that easy to silence Rachel Barbara Berry, I might have used it way sooner.

Anything else we might have said was cut off by the sound of Finn opening the refrigerator. He couldn't hear our voices from the kitchen, but sometimes he was sneakier then he got credit for, and he would be bothered if he knew we were talking about him.

"Tea with Splenda and lemon." Finn handed it over and resumed his place on the couch, picking back up on the movie without further comment. Rachel looked at him out of the corner of her eye, finally reaching out to rest a hand on his knee. He covered it with his own, never looking away from the screen.

A brief jealousy flickered through my chest, but I pushed it away. If Rachel was such a threat that even touching her would cause Finn to fall madly back in love with her, then, screw him, I didn't want him anyway.

_ Brave words._

Yeah, I got it. But Finn wasn't holding her hand; he was just resting his on top of hers. That was ok, wasn't it? While I was fretting, he poked me gently with a finger, getting the sensitive skin between my hip and ribcage. When I glanced over, he smiled at me. I couldn't help but smile back. Maybe I needed to quit being so insecure.

When the movie was over, Finn sighed happily. "I love that movie. It's, like, my third favorite of the books, especially the White Witch." 

Rachel smiled. "Really? I always felt bad for the kids. They had this wonderful life, where they were kings and queens, and then they were just shoved back into being children again. It had to be crushing."

He shook his head. "Maybe. But they had a second chance to do everything over again. They wouldn't have made the same mistakes in England that they made in Narnia, so things had to be better for them, right? Anyway, they made it back in the end. Right, Kurt?"

I thought about it. "I can see both sides. If I could be myself from even two years ago, to have the wisdom and maturity that I do today, I could have avoided a lot of stress and heartache. So I could see where having the intellect and wisdom of an adult while still being a teenager might be beneficial. On the other hand….Finn, they were royalty! Servants and fancy clothes and people bowing and scraping at their feet! If I could have that, I don't know that I could ever give it up."

He cocked his head. "You would give up your family? Because that's what Lucy and Edmund and Peter and Susan did. They had parents, and even though the parents didn't know that they were gone because of that weird time warp thing, the kids would have known. And anyway, they weren't really adults either. They couldn't get married or have kids or anything, because incest is gross and shit. Would you really want to go your whole life without ever having a boyfriend? Rachel, would you?"

She shook her head, and even I had to concede the point. "I guess. But Finn, the crowns! I would stomp though a field of puppies for just one crown. Or even to have my tiaras back." 

Wisely, neither he not Rachel chose to comment on that one. Instead she gave him a sly look. "You know Finn, there's a musical version of this movie."

Finn can be warned a million times, and still fall right into Rachel Berry's traps. "Really? How come you didn't bring that one?"

"Because I don't own a copy. It's not a Broadway musical, of which I have no chance of getting my hands on either, and I refuse to tape some amateur performance. Anyway, the show itself isn't important, just the songs. I was thinking that we could perform a medley in Glee. You are coming back to Glee, right?"

Hook, line, and sinker. Now Finn would fall all over himself to make her happy, just like he always did. Sure enough, he gave her that shy little smile. "Yeah."

"Good. Though, of course, I didn't have any doubts. Now that we're upper classmen, we will be the rulers of the school, instead of the lowly peons."

Yes, because going up a grade was going to magically raise us up the social ladder. Where was this girl's brain? All junior year was going to bring us was more slushies. Though, as long is the slushies didn't come with a side of dumpster dipping, I figured I would be alright.

Finn cleared his throat nervously, and I knew that he would kill me if I told him that he sounded exactly like my father when he did that. "I'm not going back to school. Just Glee."

"Oh, honey, you can't do that." Her tone was so gentle and pitying that it made me want to shake her until that ugly Scottie dog fell off her sweater. "Glee is a school activity, and you have to be in school to participate. You either have to do both or neither, and we both know what you'll pick."

Obviously, she had no idea what she was talking about. Two weeks ago, when that had actually been the choice he thought he was going to have to make, he was willing to give up Glee. Rachel didn't know Finn anywhere near as well as she thought she did.

_No, Rachel just doesn't understand how traumatized Finn actually is. She's seeing him at his best, in a safe environment. To her, there's nothing that can't be fixed with a song. But that's only because nothing terrible has ever really happened to her. If it had, and don't you dare wish that it would, she wouldn't be so quick to think that he can be fixed with a few songs._

I opened my mouth to defend Finn, but he didn't need me to. "That's not true. I can not go to school and still do Glee! Quit treating me like I'm stupid and I have no idea what's going on!"

Before all this had happened, Finn would have yelled and kicked something. Right after he got back, he would have signed angrily and cried. Now, he did neither. His voice was hard, but not loud. He wasn't going to be mean, but he wasn't going to let anyone, including Rachel Berry, push him around.

_Our baby is growing up, Kurt. He's growing up._

Rachel knew that she had pushed Finn too far, and hastened to back up. "Finn, don't shout. I'm not treating you like you're stupid; I'm just trying to understand. Explain to me, calmly and patiently, how it is that you can not be a student at McKinley High, and still be a member of the Glee club." She took a breath and continued without giving him a chance to respond. "Calmly, Finn. There's no reason for you to get all crazy over a simple misunderstanding."

Ooh, not a good thing to say. Ever since Finn had had his mini-breakdown, where he had been threatened with institutionalization, he was incredibly sensitive to anyone even suggesting that he was even the slightest bit mentally disturbed. The muscles in his jaw twitched, and I saw his pulse throb in his throat.

This would have been the point where I lunged for Rachel's throat, but Finn is capable of showing amazing restraint at times. He just took a deep breath and held it, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling. He counted to 10, his lips moving slightly with each number, then looked back at us both. "I'm still a student of McKinley High. I just won't go to class with everyone else. They're going to have a tutor come to the house, because I never finished last year, so I can't be a junior this year anyway. It's called Homebound learning and Ms. Pillsbury said I could do it."

"So, what you're saying is, the only time we'll get to see each other is during Glee?" She sounded crushed, but I wasn't buying. Oh, she was crushed, all right, but it didn't have anything to do with Finn, not deep down. What was crushing her was that her plans for this amazing school year were being ruined before they had even begun. I had very little doubt that she would amend them, though, and make them better then ever. Finn was her first choice, but he was essentially interchangeable with any other boy in the school. Rachel tried, but she was out for Rachel first, and everyone else a distant second. Very distant.

Finn shrugged. "No. But you can come over and see me here, or I guess I could go to your place. It'll be ok."

Now Rachel was the one trying to take deep breaths and stay in control. She wasn't used to being told 'no', especially by Finn. "It won't be the same, though." There was definite whine in her voice.

His eyes went hard. "Of course not. Puck's dead, how could it be the same?"

She gasped, one hand rising up to cover her mouth. I barely restrained a gasp of my own. Finn so seldom brought up Puck that I was never sure what to do when he did. Just like before, there wasn't any real grief behind the comment, just a strange flatness. The only time he had been at all upset about losing Puck was last night, when he had cried a little. He was obviously waiting for a reply, though, and she nodded. "You're right, Finn. Things will be very different this year without him."

"It's ok. I mean, things always change. They have to, otherwise life wouldn't be cool. But tell me more about the Narnia musical." The abrupt subject change was Finn's way of forgiving her and asking her forgiveness in return. Awkward, granted, but, then, Finn was often that way.

For someone who was frequently a moron when it came to reading social cues, Rachel actually got it this time, and went off into a long discourse about the music, even singing a few songs, while I pretended not to be interested. Say what you will about Rachel Berry, but the girl knew music.

She stayed for almost another three hours, and the mood in the house gradually settled into a companionable relaxation. Rachel let the matter of Finn going to school rest, and just concentrated on telling him about France and casually singing a few songs with the three of us. Finn's voice had a raspy quality that it hadn't before, probably from lack of use. I knew Mr. Shue was working with him, trying to get his voice back in shape, so I ignored it. Plus, there was something kind of sexy about it.

Finally Rachel's phone rang (Defying Gravity- naturally), and her fathers called her home. I was surprised to notice that it was nearly 5 in the afternoon, and that I had not only managed to get through an entire afternoon of Rachel Berry, I had actually enjoyed parts of it. Best of all, I had only contemplated killing her four times! It was a miracle.

Then I glanced over at Finn, and I had to amend my previous thought. The _best _part of today was seeing how happy Finn was to see Rachel. As much as I disliked the thought of the two of them being together as boyfriend and girlfriend (and that's not just me being a selfish jerk- the two of them bring out each others absolute worst traits), they were obviously deeply attached to each other, and Finn was going to need all the friends he could gather to lend him strength for the upcoming trial. Rachel squeezed him tightly, and, after a pause, hugged me as well. I hugged her back, surprising myself. "Thank you for coming, Rachel."

"Yeah." Finn was nodding. "You can come back by any time. Just call first, in case Kurt and I have plans."

"Do you have a cell phone? Your old one is disconnected." She pulled out a small spiral notebook in the shape of a golden star and a pink pen, waiting for the string of digits.

"Uh, no. I'm getting new one soon, though. But you can call the house phone." He rattled off the number.

"My cell as well." I never thought that I would be giving Rachel my number, but I guess a lot of things had happened in the past six months that I thought never would. "I'll be sure to pass any messages on to Finn."

"Thank you. Finn, I'm going to try and get the music for the Narnia musical, so we can run through a few of the songs. You need a little work on hitting that high B again, you've lost a little range. But, overall, you're definitely developing a more mature sound."

It wasn't possible for Rachel to do anything without offering some constructive criticism. But at least she was learning to coach it gently and ply him with compliments as well. "Yeah, Mr. Shue and I are working on it."

"Well, I won't take up any more of your time. My fathers are wanting to take me out to dinner and to get a few items of clothing to finish my back to school shopping. Bye boys!"

The thought of the damage to fashion that that girl was doing with her father's hard earned money was almost enough to make me cry. But, as well as things had gone today, I just didn't think that I was up to having to deal with trying to convince Rachel that pantsuits were unflattering on everyone, and that included Heidi Klum, or that it was possible to find a sweater that didn't have an animal appliquéd on it. Anyway, I had my own clothing shopping to do tomorrow with the girls. Finn and I are going to get a few things together next week, but he's just not capable of holding up during a 7 hour shopping spree. 

Finn walked her to the door, ever the gentleman. If I strained, I could still hear their voices, though the words themselves were indistinct. I leaned closer, but I still couldn't hear them.

What I could hear, though, was Finn thundering back down the steps, considering that he made all the noise of a herd of small elephants. He gave me a brilliant smile. "That was fun!" 

"It was, wasn't it. But it looks like it's going to be too late for you to go rat shopping today." Thank Prada. Despite what I had told Finn, I wasn't particularly excited about having a rodent in our room.

"Yeah, well, your Dad isn't home, so we couldn't go anyway." His face scrunched adorably. "What do you think that we're having for dinner?"

"Good question. I'll give him a call and see what he wants to do." Hopefully it wouldn't involve greasy take-out.

Finn nuzzled up against me while I made the call. That wasn't unusual. He was much less shy about touching me when he thought I was distracted by something else. He kissed the back of my neck, making me shiver. While he did that, he used his fingers to trace circles on my hip. I hated to push him away, because he was actually taking some steps forward, but if he didn't stop soon, I was going to end up moaning like a bitch in heat on the phone with my father, and there was no way that that could end well. "Easy, Cowboy."

He backed off instantly, looking hurt. I twisted to kiss his shoulder through his shirt. "Not when I'm on the phone. After, ok?"

"Ok." Even though we both knew that he wouldn't. Showing affection was for when I was distracted or at night when we cuddled before he went to his bed. Anything else wasn't going to happen.

Sure enough, by the time I had confirmed that Dad was caught up at the garage and Carole working late, leaving us on our own for dinner; Finn had lost interest in touching me at all. I didn't push it, though. Everything was still so new, and, if I was being honest with myself, I wouldn't have been ready if he were to suddenly decide to do something like stick his hand down my pants. "How about we just have soup and sandwiches. Prada knows that you've probably eaten two pounds of cookies this afternoon."

"Dude, her cookies are the most delicious things in the world. Too bad she usually just gives them to the stupid old homeless. But, yeah, soup and sandwiches is fine. Is chili a soup?"

I had made chicken chili a few weeks ago, and Finn had shocked all of us by loving it. Chicken was so much better for you then beef, and if Finn liked it, I'm sure that no one else would be able to tell the difference. "Of course it is. Do you think that you can handle making a small pot for us while I make the sandwiches?"

"Yes. I don't light things on fire any more, you know." Again with the hurt.

"I know. You're actually a very good cook." He was, too. Lily had taught him well.

We made dinner in silence, with me caught up in thinking about how my life had suddenly changed, and Finn humming softly to himself. I hated to spoil his happiness, but I had to remind him about tomorrow. "Cowboy, you do remember that I'm going to be at the mall all day tomorrow with Mercedes and Tina, right? Back to school shopping?"

The blank look on his face told me that, no, he didn't remember. "I thought you and me were going back to school shopping together." The disappointment in his face made me feel ill.

"We will. Finn, sweetheart, you can't possibly think that it will only take one shopping trip to fulfill my back to school needs, do you?"

"Uh….no?"

"You and I will have our day, but tomorrow is a girl's day out. Are you ok with that? Because I can change our plans."

"No, it's fine. But you won't be able to come to the store and help me get my rat. It's just going to be Mom and me and your dad."

_Aw, look! What Finn means is that it's just going to be the real family. Mommy, Daddy and the son they've both always wanted. You, Kurt, are no longer needed._

That wasn't true! And just to prove that stupid voice wrong, I was going to let the three of them go and not make a fuss about it. "It'll be ok. I know that you're rather….limited when it comes to a flair for decorating, but I think I can trust you to choose the rodentia that will be occupying the room. Do not bring home one without hair, though. That's my only request."

"Rat with hair, right." He gave me the puppy look. "Is it because you don't want to go somewhere with me?" 

I gave him a quick squeeze. "No. It's because I made plans with the girls first, and I have to honor that commitment. Ok?"

"Ok. Because I don't want you to be ashamed of me."

I couldn't believe that Finn thought _I _would be ashamed of _him. _ "I could never be ashamed of you."

"Oh. Good." He stood up and came over, offering me a kiss. "You'll wake me up before you go, right? You won't just leave?"

I softened. "Finn, the three of us are leaving at _4:30_ in the morning. We're going all the way to Cleveland, and we'll be there all day. I probably wont' be back until close to 10 or 11 at night. Are you sure you want me to wake you up? Wouldn't you rather I just call about nine?"

"No. I don't want to wake up and you be gone. I want you to wake me up, even if it's early. Besides, I have to give you a kiss before you go. So, you know, you'll have good luck." He sounded so ridiculously proud that I had to give him another kiss right now.

"I will wake you up tomorrow before I leave, if it's that important to you."

He leaned his head against my shoulder. "Promise?"

"Promise."


	29. Chapter 29

_**And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.**__**  
**__**Khalil Gibran**_

I had chosen my alarm clock for its aesthetic value. It was a rounded piece, silver with soothing blue numbers instead of the traditional yellow or red. It fit the mood of the room, and looked stunning.

I had not chosen the clock for the alarm on it. The noise it made was truly jarring, something that grated my nerves raw, especially at 3:30 in the morning. I slapped at it as fast as I could, not wanting Finn to be disturbed.

Not that it mattered. Finn was capable of sleeping through just about anything, and, indeed, hadn't so much as twitched. He was sprawled out on his stomach, breathing steadily. I leaned over and kissed his sleep-flushed cheek, making him smile a bit in his sleep. I wasn't going to wake him up, though, not until it was actually time for me to leave.

I rushed through the shower and pulled on the clothes I had laid out last night. I only had an hour, and I had to make sure I was looking my best. But I couldn't make myself too complicated, because I was going to be changing clothes over and over all day long.

With that in mind, not to mention my lingering tiredness, I slipped on a pair of black jeans and a form fitting sweater. Yes, one of the ones I had promised Dad that I could quit wearing, which had been a total and knowing lie on my part. But sometimes lies must be told in the name of fashion. I didn't cover my freckles either, though I was keeping the tube of concealor in case of an unsightly pimple or other blotch.

By the time I was done in the bathroom it was 4:23, almost time to leave. I sat on the edge of Finn's bed and gently patted his back. He yawned heavily and opened his eyes, blinking at me. "Hey."

"Hey." I touched his cheek lightly, feeling the rasp of a starting beard against my fingers. Finn needed to shave now. I was almost completely sure that he hadn't needed to before the kidnapping. It was weird to think that Finn was almost an adult now, which meant I was too. How could I possibly be almost an adult, when I still felt like such a little kid most of the time?

Finn rolled over and sat up, scrubbing at his eyes. "Are you leaving?"

"Yes. But I promised I would wake you up before I went, so here I am. You might be in bed when I get home, but I'll call at lunch, and you can call me if you need me, alright?" I tried to sound upbeat, and not at all like the thought of leaving him for an entire day, the first time we had been separated for more then a few hours, was causing an actual ache near my heart.

"I'll miss you." He sounded just as heartbroken as I felt.

"You'll be ok." I kissed his cheek. "You and Dad and your Mom go pick out your rat together, and I'll see it when I get home. Do you remember what I said about it?"

He smiled. "Not a hairless one. Anything else is ok." His arms wrapped around me tightly, pulling me down onto the bed. I squeezed him back and was rewarded with a gentle kiss on the lips. "I guess you can go now. If you have to."

"How about I call you when we first get to the mall? Then you don't have to worry about us." I gave him a gentle shove so he would lie down and go back to sleep.

I needn't have worried. He wrapped one arm around Wolf and settled almost immediately. "Ok. Call me."

I grabbed my satchel (which was not a 'dude purse', even though I knew that Finn would never believe me), double checked that Dad's credit card was where it should be, and grabbed my keys. In the kitchen I scribbled a quick note to tell Dad and Carole that I had left, then opened the fridge to grab an apple. Instead, I found a presliced fruit cup with walnuts and a side of yogurt. There was a note attached.

Kurt-

You're Going to need your strength for a day filled with shopping. I made this for you

Good luck with the girls!

Love, Carole

Tears pricked at the backs of my eyes. Carole was working the night shift, which meant she had left at midnight and wouldn't be back until almost 9 this morning. But she had still taken the time to make sure I would have something to hold me over until the girls and I could get some breakfast. I loved her.

That thought pulled me up cold. I loved Carole? Did I?

_Do you?_

Yes. It wasn't like it had been with Finn, where I had seen him once and just known. This was a slow thing, a love that started out as indifference, and grew into something else. Now I couldn't imagine not having her. I took the fruit cup tenderly, as if it were the most delicate crystal instead of an old plastic cup from Chuck E. Cheese and resolved to tell her how important she was to me as soon as I got home.

I picked up Mercedes first, having to call her twice and bang on her bedroom door before she finally appeared, looking half asleep. "Kurt, I can hear you! Remind me again why we have to drive half way to Paris to go back to school shopping?"

She was always like this in the morning, so I just pointed her towards the bathroom, taking the chance to finish my morning snack in peace. I had known that she would be like this, which was why I had allotted for a little extra time before we had to be at Tina's. "It's just Cleveland, not Paris. And I'll let you have the strawberries out of my fruit cup if you hurry." Well, she could have about half the strawberries. I had already eaten the rest, but there was no reason for her to know that.

It took about 15 minutes, but then she was ready to go. I handed her the cup, which had not only strawberries, but a few blueberries and a hunk or two of some sort of melon. She picked through it. "I thought we were stopping for breakfast."

"We are. But Carole thought I needed something to start the day with, so she made me this. You know that eating within a half hour of waking up revs your metabolism."

She sighed dramatically, then paused. "Carole made it for you? That was nice of her."

As much as I loved Mercedes, I had to admit that subtlety was not her strong point. "It _was_ very nice of her." I knew if I left her hanging, she would keep pressing me for more details.

"So the two of you are getting along better? Less jealousy over the wifely duties?" She was teasing now, and I had to smile.

"Yeah. Which is a good thing; because I'm pretty sure that my father wants to ask her to marry him." That little tidbit was 50% the way he looked at her, and 50% the fact that I was snooping in his laptop at work and found a half dozen sites devoted to wedding rings.

She squealed. "Oh My God, Kurt! That would be awesome! You could plan the wedding, and, of course, I would help, because you need someone to help you tone it down. The Glee club could sing, and you would be the best man, and get to hold the rings and it would be the most romantic-"She had to visibly cut herself off. "Of course, it's only awesome and romantic if you're ok with it. How would you feel about them getting married?"

I shrugged. "Honestly? At this point I think it's a foregone conclusion. With everything that we've made it through so far, can you imagine them not getting married?"

"I guess not, but that doesn't mean that you have to be ok with it." Her hand came up to rub my shoulder, and I leaned into the soothing touch.

"No, it doesn't. But I think I am. I really like having Carole around, and she makes Dad so happy. In two years Finn and I will both be gone, and I like the thought of them having each other. I still miss my own Mom, but Carole takes good care of me, too. So, yeah, I'm ok with it."

"What does _Finn_ think? I can't imagine that he's too thrilled." Mercedes was well aware of the ongoing battle between Dad and Finn.

"I don't think that Finn knows, but, yeah, I can pretty clearly imagine the tantrum." Even though I really, really didn't want to. Finn is capable of becoming quite the hurricane when his temper is aroused, and I did not want to be on the receiving end of that anger.

_Do you really think so? He's afraid of your father, yes, but does he actually dislike him? Have you ever actually asked? Because he's indicated several times that he wants things to be better between the two of them, and they're making strides towards that. Don't presume to speak for Finn. He can speak for himself now, so let it happen._

Luckily, Mercedes was unaware of my mental battle, and continued on. "And just how is Mr. Hudson? Still giving off some very mixed signals?"

I wanted to tell her the truth with every part of my soul. But I had made a promise to Finn, and, right now, Finn ranked higher then Mercedes did. It was a strange thought, but not an entirely unwelcome one. I shrugged and sidestepped the question. "Does Finn know how to not give off mixed signals? I think we're sorting it out, though. Did I tell you that he got out of the house a few nights ago and about scared the crap out of me?"

I knew that I hadn't, and my retelling of the night Finn had turned off the alarm (minus the kiss, of course) kept us both entertained until we made it to Tina's. Keeping Finn and my relationship a secret was going to be harder then I thought.

Tina was awake and ready to go, but she signaled me into the house. Standing behind her was a man I vaguely recognized for Glee events. He smiled and held out a hand. "Hello, young man. I'm Samuel Cohen, Tina's Daddy." He smiled at his daughter, who glared back.

I put on my most charming face. "Kurt Hummel. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"I'm sure you understand that I worry about my baby girl spending all day with a boy that I don't know." He peered past me, out at the car. "That Artie boy isn't out there, is he?" Tina put her hands over her face in embarrassment.

"No sir. It's just going to be me, Tina, and Mercedes doing some back to school shopping. I'll be the only boy present." I did my best to project both sincerity and as much homosexuality as possible.

"Alright. It's just that Tina's gotten herself in some trouble with a boy before, and I'm a little wary. Sweetheart, you have fun today, alright? You have my credit card, but don't go over $300." He held out his arms for a hug, and Tina reluctantly squeezed him back. "I love you, Sweetie."

She softened. "I love you too, Daddy. I'll call you when I know what time I'll be home, ok?"

"Yes, Tina. Kurt, I'm trusting you to take good care of her."

"I certainly will." Tina was all but dragging me out the door. "Come on, Kurt, come on!"

I managed to get back in the car before I burst out laughing. Tina scowled at me. "It's not funny, Kurt. Daddy is so overprotective of me! It's like I'm a little girl!"

With a smirk, I looked in the rearview mirror. "I don't know about that. From what I heard in there, I don't think that it's you being a _little_ girl that he's worried about."

Mercedes swung around. "Tina Cohen-Chang, you dirty girl! Tell us all about it."

Even in the semidarkness, I could see her blushing. "There really isn't anything to tell. It was last year, and his name was Mike." She must have seen us getting ready to ask, because she held up a hand. "_Not_ our Mike. He was my boyfriend, I guess, and I may have gotten caught in the basement of the middle school."

I whistled and Mercedes laughed. "Nice. Were you naked?"

"Um, no. Not really." She gestured vaguely around her chest. "I had my shirt off, though."

"No way. Was your bra off?" Mercedes was all but climbing over the seat to get the rest of the story.

Tina snorted. "You mean my training bra? Please, I barely have any breasts now, much less two years ago. But no, it wasn't off. I may have let him put his hand under it, though."

Mercedes and I both laughed. "That's it? From the way your father was eyeballing me, I thought that it had been much kinkier."

_I wouldn't laugh so hard, Kurt. It's much further then you've gotten. _

So basically that voice was telling me to push and scare Finn, just so I could prove that I was a bigger tramp then Tina had been? I don't think so. Moving forward was Finn's choice, and his alone, not the prerogative of some bitchy horny creature that lived in the back of my brain.

The voice in my brain did, however, have a direct line to Tina's brain, because she smirked at me. "And how far have_ you_ gotten?"

Her smug tone prompted Mercedes to join in on my humiliation. "Tina, not nice. I'm sure Kurt and Handrew are quite deeply in love, and they've probably gone all the way more then once."

God I wanted to tell them both the truth, that maybe I hadn't let Finn under my top (not that I had anything under there, but, then, neither did Quinn _or_ Rachel), but I had gotten three of the most mind blowing kisses that anyone had ever received, and that topped Tina's middle school groping by about a million times. "My masturbatory habits are absolutely none of your business you perverts." Then, in a moment of pure immaturity, I licked the palm of my hand and rubbed it on Mercedes' cheek. "Handrew says that he's leaving me for you, though."

She giggled and kissed my palm. "Oh, Handrew, this is a dream come true. I've always had fantasies about you, but I thought we could never be…together in that way. Of course the answer is yes!"

All three of us laughed, and I was surprised at how freeing it felt. For once, I was just able to be me, and not have to worry about trials or rapists or the upcoming school year. It was just me and the girls, going shopping, and having fun. Tina tapped my shoulder. "If she gets Handrew, who do I get?"

"You get Artie." Mercedes gave her a look. "I get Handrew because I don't have a real man."

Tina scowled. "I'd probably get further with Handrew then I have with Artie. Shit, I'd probably get further with _Kurt_."

I switched hands on the wheel. "Have you met Palmer?"

We all cracked up again. "Girls, start watching for somewhere to eat. Tina, you and Palmer have a date for later."

"Can Palmer cook? Because if he can't, I might have to stick with Artie."

"Sorry, Palmer believes in take-out. It was beautiful while it lasted, though." I turned on the radio to forestall any further questions about Finn and my sex life. I had never had such a problem keeping a secret in my entire life. After all, I had kept the fact that I was gay a secret from the entire world for 6 years. Though apparently everyone else knew right away, I didn't figure it out until I saw Matt Damon and Ben Affleck in Dogma on HBO. Staring at them, I felt something in my heart (and my pants) that I had never felt, and never would feel, for a woman.

But this was different. My sexuality was my secret, to be shared when I was comfortable. This was Finn's secret as well, and I had promised that I would keep it. So it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be.

The girls insisted on stopping at an IHOP, so I acquiesced and pulled in. I had already had a healthy snack, and eggs were the good kind of cholesterol anyway.

Mercedes skipped out to the bathroom after we ordered, leaving Tina and I alone. She fussed with her coffee and didn't meet my eyes, suddenly shy. I didn't understand what she found so threatening about me, considering that she could undoubtedly kick my ass (I could probably hit harder, since I do have some muscle, but never underestimate a girl for sheer meanness), but I had long since concluded that it wasn't me so much as it was everyone. Finn was closer to her then I was, something I found endlessly amusing, but he wasn't revealing his secrets. I had really thought that she and I were becoming friends.

"So did Finn finally kiss you or not?" Apparently the shyness was because she was getting ready to drop the bomb on me.

I choked on thin air. "What?"

"I just….I thought that maybe he had kissed you. You look all happy and-"She gestured at my face. "-sparkly."

My voice had deserted me, and I spent several seconds gasping helplessly before I recovered. "Why would you think that Finn wanted to kiss me?" Just what _were_ the two of them talking about when she came over?

_Kissing you, obviously. _

She shrugged and added another creamer to her coffee. I knew her well enough by now to know that she didn't usually take that much creamer, so she had to be avoiding my eyes. "I just did."

"Did he talk to you about it?" I'm not sure why the thought bothered me. Tina clearly didn't know if Finn had made a move or not, and we had agreed that we wouldn't tell anyone what was happening only after we had kissed for the first time. Really, I should be flattered that Finn was so interested that he had asked Tina about me.

"Um, no. Not really." Her head bowed, and her hair tumbled down to cover her face. I made a mental not to ask her what sort of conditioner she was using because her hair was gorgeous and shiny. Not now, though, now I had to know about Finn and exactly how long he had been thinking about me.

I leaned back in my chair and didn't take my eyes off of Tina, but I didn't speak either. I knew that I was on a deadline here, since Mercedes wouldn't stay in the bathroom forever, but pushing her right now would be the worst move possible. Just like with Finn, she would come to me when she was ready.

Tina's not as good at holding out as Finn is, and it only took a few seconds before she cracked. "He's been asking me a lot of questions the past few days."

Since I was facing the bathroom, I could see Mercedes coming out. I shot her a look and slightly jerked my head. She nodded and leaned against the wall, giving Tina and I the privacy we needed. "What sort of questions?"

"About you."

This was like pulling teeth. "What was he asking?"

"Nothing sexual. Just about what kind of things you liked and stuff. He really wanted to make you happy. But he's never asked me like that before." I could tell that she was just trying to make me feel better, that she had no idea what was really happening. But it was sweet that Finn had thought to ask.

"Oh, what did you tell him?" I tried not to sound too eager, but I ended up failing miserably.

"I told him a few things, but then I told him that if he was that curious, that he could ask you himself." She shot me a sassy smirk. "That was good right?"

"That was perfect." I caught Mercedes' eye over Tina's head and signaled that she could come over. I knew that this was a good sign, one that Finn was attracted to me before I had made a move, but it only left me feeling more confused. Were things ever going to be easy with Finn?

_Not a chance. _

My best girl sat down heavily. "So, what did I miss?" 

"Finn being a confusing bastard." I couldn't help but be a little irritable.

She smirked at me. "Aw, is someone sleepy? He's very cranky."

Actually, I kind of was. A certain amount of sleep was required to look this good on a regular basis, and I hadn't been getting enough. "Kind of."

"Would massive sales perk you up?" She sipped at her orange juice, her dark eyes focused on me. She wasn't fooled by the change of subject, but she was willing to let it go for now. Later on though, I was going to pay for this one.

"Probably, but not as much as this coffee will." I drank it black, relishing the burn in the back of my throat.

Our food arrived, and I busied myself buttering my toast and cutting my eggs into small bites. I couldn't help but think about Finn, and wonder if he was awake or not. On a normal day, he wouldn't be up before 9, but this wasn't a normal day. I was gone, and maybe that would upset him enough that he _would_ be awake early.

_ It won't. Right now Finn is passed out, perfectly happy and safe. If, on the off chance, he _is_ awake, it's because he's so excited about the possibility of filling your basement with rodentia. He's fine, now quit inviting trouble._

Maybe I should call.

_It's 6 in the morning! If Finn even hears the phone ring, and that's rather doubtful, all you're going to get is someone who's too groggy to even know which end o f the phone to hold up. Let him sleep_.

"Are you talking about your new boyfriend, Finn?" Mercedes wasn't looking at me, so she didn't see the horrified expression on my face. However, I sat there gaping like a fish long enough that she still had plenty of time to look up and see it. "Did I hit a nerve, there? Because, Kurt, we've talked about this. Finn is sweet and adorable in a dumb kind of way, and he's capable of being quite loving when the right mood strikes him. But if he wanted to make a move, he would have done it already."

Only he had. Sort of. I mean, we were boyfriends, except we had never actually called it that. Just 'together'. He had seen me naked, even though that was sort of a mistake. I hadn't really touched him, and he hadn't touched me.

_He put his hand under your shirt, remember? He wanted to touch you; he just wasn't sure how to go about it in a way that wasn't too predatory. He wants things to be good for you._

That was true. But it had nothing to do with how I was going to put Mercedes off right now. "I know. If Finn wanted me, he would have done something by now." I just wasn't going to tell her that he had already done it.

"Did he?" Sometimes Mercedes is too smart for her own good.

"Why would you ask that?" I wasn't sure why I bothered asking that, since my avoidance was as good as a flat out yes.

She laughed. "Because you were so quiet this morning. Usually you start off with a running commentary of what Finn's been up to, and the way he looks at you that might mean some thing but might not, and the progress he's making. Or you just complain about his inability to pick up after himself or eat anything not deep fried or stewing in preservatives. But not today. Today_ I_ had to ask about him, which tells me that you're hiding something."

"Because I don't babble on constantly about the boy that both of you have told me to get over?" I was getting that slightly hysterical note in my voice, and that never ended well. I forced it down to normal. "You should both be taking that as a sign of progress."

They exchanged looks, doing that strange girl-telepathy that always made me think of Village of the Damned. Finally Tina giggled and Mercedes smirked. "It would be, if you weren't blushing the same color as your shirt. "

I wasn't going to get out of this by denying it, so I tried appealing to their softer sides. "Look, can we just drop it? Finn didn't want me to tell anyone, and he'd be so miserable if he knew that I had."

Both of them had become extremely protective of Finn, and my words quieted them down. It wouldn't work forever, but for now the subject was considered closed. I made myself perk up so I could change the subject. "Let's lay out a game plan. Just what is it that everyone needs?" 

Things started moving quickly then, while I tried to figure out the best way to approach today. I needed a quite a few outfits, even considering that I was going to be shopping with Finn next week. Sometime over the summer I had shot up nearly 4 inches, and nothing I owned fit right any more. It was beyond depressing to look into my closet, at all of my precious clothing, and know that I couldn't wear any of it any more.

The strange thing was, I had barely even noticed that I was growing. It had actually been Finn who had taken both of my hands and pulled my body up against his. I had frozen in place, not sure of where he was going with it, but all he had done was rest a hand on top of my head, then draw an invisible line to his throat. Then he had given me his patented goofy Finn smile. "You're taller. Like, a lot, dude."

Naturally, I had had to check myself against the doorframe, where Dad marked my height each year. Yep, taller. After all this time, it was finally happening!

Then I found out that I wasn't done, and that I was going to have to deal with things like growing pains and an appetite better suited to a lumberjack (or Finn) and being grouchy all the time. Maybe I should have just been happy with the height I had.

_Whine, whine, whine. You're becoming exactly who you're supposed to be, and there's nothing you can do to change that. Just enjoy not having to climb on the counter to reach your breakfast cereal._

Since neither one of the girls had grown an inch, they only needed a few new outfits and some current accessories to jazz up what they had already. Tina wasn't going to accept much input from me, no matter what I tried. She had her own sense of style, and, after the debacle with Figgins and the vampires, she wasn't going to let anyone try and change it for her. This was mostly a social trip for her, but she would probably let me choose a few things that were in line with what she had already chosen for herself.

Mercedes was more likely to listen to my suggestions, so I concentrated on her. She had the gorgeous eyes and a skin tone that I would kill for, and I wanted to play that up for her. I was secondary here, especially since I would be shopping again with Finn in a few days.

There were two malls that might have appropriate offerings, as well as a few smaller shops and boutiques. I used my phone to pull up a map and chart our trip. "Ok, girls, how does this look?"

They both crowded around to peek at it. Tina groaned when she saw the sheer number of shops we planned to visit. "Is this going to be the sort of trip that involves lunch _and _dinner?"

"It's a three hour drive each way, Tina. Don't you think that we should take full advantage of our time here?"

She didn't say anything, but I didn't miss the way she rolled her eyes heavenward and crossed herself. I gave her a gentle kick under the table. "It's not _that_ bad."

Another deep sigh. "Are you sure that Finn will be alright for that long? I mean, have the two of you ever been separated for that long?"

_Nice one. Apparently you're not the only one who can use the 'poor little Finn' weapon._

I squared my shoulders. "Finn will be just fine. I'll call and check up on him, and he knows the number if he needs me."

"I'm not getting out of this, am I?" Her easy smile told me that she didn't really want to, that she would put up with the shopping demon gladly.

"Not a chance, Baby Girl." I leaned over to kiss her cheek, to let her know that I wasn't upset either.

Fueled by an extra large breakfast and the excitement of spending an entire day with friends and no supervision, we hit store after store, picking up things for the girls first, then me. It was one of the few days that I had had to enjoy myself with friends since the morning that I had woken up to Dad telling me that Finn was gone.

We were at the fourth store, in the middle of the first mall when it went bad. It was just Mercedes and I, since Tina had snuck off to go to Hot Topic. Well, that's what she claimed she was doing. Considering the way she had eyed the pretzel kiosk as we came in, I strongly suspected she had stopped for a snack.

I was watching Mercedes model her dozenth outfit of the day, sighing irritably. How many times did I have to tell her that there was no way to make zebra stripes look good, no matter what color she tried to fool me with? "No, Mercedes. For the love of all that is designer and holy, you are _not_ buying that." She started to protest, and I held up a hand to stop her. "Mercedes, I am here for a reason, and that reason is to prevent you from making the most hideous of fashion mistakes. The answer is no. If you can convince someone else to drag you to Cleveland and buy it, my hands are clean, but not today."

She huffed and stomped back to the dressing room, muttering things under her breath that would have shocked most people. "Nice, Mercedes. Do you kiss your mother with that damn mouth?"

"Do you kiss Finn with that one?" She was back inside the dressing room, but didn't have to be able to see me to know when she had scored a point.

"You're a bitch, Mercedes." I sat back down in one of the chairs outside the dressing room, sighing heavily. Why did every fashion decision end up falling on my shoulders?

I was plotting our next move when I became aware of eyes trained on me. Predatory eyes, the same thing I felt when the hockey team was getting on my case again. I straightened my shoulders and met the eyes of a man sitting on the other side of the dressing room. Judging by the purse sitting in his lap, he was waiting for a wife or girlfriend. I affected an air of indifference. "Can I help you with something?"

His eyes narrowed. "Only by dying. Fucking fags like you shouldn't be allowed out in public with us normal people."

No matter how many times I heard those words, they never failed to make me feel like I'd been punched in the gut. But I had heard worse, and I wasn't gone to let him back me down. Showing fear was a guarantee of having my ass kicked. "Look, asshole, I'm not the one carrying a purse."

He bristled, but he couldn't deny the purse's existence. "This is my girlfriends purse, you ass pirate. You probably don't even know what a girlfriend is. What is it with you freaks and fat black chicks?"

You know what, you can say what you want about me, but do _not_ talk about my friends like that. I stood up to say something so terrible that he would never forget it, every muscle in my body tense.

_Kurt, pick your battles. Yes, this guy is an asshole, and God knows I would love it if you would just kick his ass, but let's be realistic. He's the size of Finn, and bruises will clash with everything you own. Just let it go._

I hated to act like a coward, but I had to admit that that voice had a point. Sometimes discretion was the better part of valor and I might just be better off just getting Mercedes and leaving quietly.

Arms wrapped around my neck, and I felt lips on the side of my neck. "Hi, Babydoll." The breath blew across my cheek, smelling suspiciously like mustard and a soft pretzel. Tina had come through for me. "Who's he?"

The man was momentarily thrown by the appearance of the hot Asian chick, one who seemed to be dating me. I turned my head away. "Just some homophobic asshole."

My declaration was timed perfectly to coincide with the appearance of a rather pretty woman who had just exited the dressing room. She shot an evil look at my companion. She cuffed him on the side of the head. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you need to pick a fight with everyone in the world while we're supposed to be spending time together?" She grabbed his hand and yanked him up, a scowl creasing her lovely features.

_Ah, karma. _

Exactly. Tina squeezed my shoulder and whispered in my ear. "Was he bugging you? I couldn't hear what he was saying, but he looked pretty pissed."

I sighed and did my best to put it out of my mind. No matter how much they hurt, I couldn't let some words ruin my special day. "Yeah, but I had it under control."

_Liar. You were going to wuss._

Tina didn't need to know that, though. As far as she knew, I was every bit as tough as I pretended to be. "Just don't tell Mercedes, ok? She'll kick his ass, and we do not have either the time or the money to bail her out of jail."

There was the tiniest flash of pity in her eyes, gone nearly as quickly as it appeared. She knew as well as I did that the reason I didn't want Mercedes to know had less to do with her doing the guy any harm (though that was a valid worry), and more to do with shame. But one of the nice things about Tina is her sensitivity to others, and she wasn't about to call me on it. "Sure."

"You're the best." My voice was flippant, like none of this bothered me at all. "Can you get Mercedes together while I call Finn? We're behind schedule and I forgot to call him earlier. Do _not_, under any circumstances, let her buy anything with zebra stripes. Got it?"

"Got it." She went into the dressing room, and I dialed home. Hopefully Finn wouldn't be too upset about me forgetting to call like I had promised.

"Hello?" It wasn't Finn at all, but Dad.

"Hi, Dad. Is Finn around?"

"He's downstairs sulking. Give me a minute, and I'll go get him." There was some background noise, and I knew he was taking the portable phone down to Finn. I wondered if Finn was sulking because I hadn't called, or if something else had happened. "How much damage are you doing to my bank account?"

"None. We haven't hit any of the stores I wanted to shop at yet. Don't worry, though, I'm not going over budget. I still have Finn to drag shopping next week." Then I remembered something else. "I did pay for breakfast for the girls, though."

"That was good. Girls should always be treated with respect, even if you're not….well, even if you like boys."

The words were awkward, but they did make me smile a little bit. Dad still could hardly face the idea of saying 'gay', but 'like boys' was a million times better then having him do that funny hand gesture and say 'you know, like you are.'.

While I was thinking that, there was a soft mummer of voices, and Finn came on the phone. "Hello."

Oh, yeah, he was definitely sulking. Discontent saturated the two syllables and shot through the phone. "What's wrong, Cowboy?"

He sighed deeply. "Mom got called into work."

In other words, Finn was trapped in the house with my father, without anyone to run interference between them. I needed to fix this.

_How? Do you think that you can take two minutes to think about it before you freak out? Even if you grab the girls and leave right now, you're looking at another three and a half hours to get home. And by doing so, you reinforce to Finn that your father is dangerous, and they can't be allowed to be alone together or something terrible will happen. Do not, under any circumstances, go home to Finn. This is called being cruel to be kind, and you have to suck it up and do it._

I got that. But it still hurt for me to have to do this. "I'm sorry to hear that. How are you holding up?"

"Good, I guess. Your Dad made us hamburgers for lunch and that was pretty cool. But Mom has to work until 8, so I don't get to go to the pet store today either, an then tomorrow's Sunday. I've been super patient, but I'm getting tired of it."

So that was what he was sulking about. I tried to tread carefully. "You know, Dad would still take you if you asked him. I'd offer to do it for you, but there's just no way I'd be able to get home in time."

This was the test. Would Finn's desire to go to the store win over his fear of my father? Maybe that would be too big of a step.

"I guess." The words were drawn out in a way that told me he was trying desperately to think of a way out of it.

I didn't say anything. This was Finn's choice, and the only one who could make it was him. The bet thing I could do right now was just change the subject. "I'm sorry I forgot to call."

"That's ok. I didn't get up until, like, an hour ago anyway." He yawned a little into the phone. "It's kind of cool to actually have hot water for once."

I smiled fondly, even though he couldn't see me. "Lazybones." My tone was pure affection, and Finn ate it up.

"Well, why should I get up? You're not here, and Mr. Shue's at some stupid conference and now Mom's gone, too. I'm so board that I'm actually doing my _homework!_"

For Finn, that was the height of boredom. "I'm sorry, Cowboy. But I'll check it over for you tonight, ok? Maybe if you're a good boy and do all of your work, I'll give you a special surprise."

He sucked in a sharp breath, and I knew that I had pushed it too far. I shouldn't have made any sort of sexual innuendo, and now he expected that I would follow through with it, whether he wanted to or not. My mind was racing, trying to figure out how to fix this, when Finn spoke again. "Like another fortune cookie?"

I grabbed the out I had been offered. "Better. Maybe even a slice of cheesecake."

There are very few things in this world that Finn likes more then cheesecake, so I knew that that would make him happy. Sure enough, he gave a contented sigh into the phone. "Really?"

"If I can find one. I'll definitely bring you something, though."

"Awesome!" I knew that whatever I brought home, no matter how small, would be received with complete enthusiasm. Whether it was a candy bar or an X-box, Finn would be thrilled to have it.

"Ok, Finn, I just wanted to call and let you know that we were safe. I'll see you later tonight." I still wanted to rush back to him with every part of my body and soul, but I tamped it down. It would only be another two weeks before I was back in school and Finn and I would be separated all day, every day.

_Does that actually make you feel better about it? _

No. Actually, it made me feel even worse. I missed Finn when we were separated for an hour, what was I going to do when we were apart all day long, five days a week?

_You'll survive. What else could you possibly plan on doing?_

Thank you, voice of reason. For just one second, could I just be allowed to whine? Even if it was just in my own head?

_ Go for it. I won't tell anyone, I promise._

I swear my own mental voice just winked at me. Belatedly, I realized that Finn was talking again, trying to tell me good bye. "Bye, Cowboy." I waited until he disconnected the call before hanging up myself and sighing deeply.

Mercedes smirked at my side. "You've got it bad."

I just didn't have the strength left to argue with her. "Yeah." It came out tired sounding.

She gave me a hug. "There's still hope."

More then she knew. "I know. But I don't want to talk about Finn right now. Can we just get on with the rest of our day?"

That was, of course, a lie. I wanted desperately to talk about Finn, and the confusing new journey we were taking together, but I couldn't. So instead I closed my eyes and hoped that there would be no major mishaps for the rest of the day.

As it turned out, there weren't. The three of us bounced from store to store, choosing things and having fun. I managed to pick up quite a few outfits for myself, and the girls were set up with things that were classic enough to get them through the entire year. By an unspoken agreement, none of us brought up Finn again. I did try and call him while we were enjoying an early dinner, but no one picked up.

We were halfway home before I remembered that I had promised Finn cheesecake. He would be happy with something else, but I couldn't bear the thought of the disappointment in his eyes if I brought home nothing. I voiced my concern to the girls, who nodded sagely.

"Just stop at an Outback or something. They have really good cheesecake and I'll bet you don't have to wait for it at all." Mercedes stretched. "Actually, get two pieces."

"Finn does _not_ need two pieces. One piece will have enough sugar to send him blasting through the roof, and I want him to be able to sleep tonight."

She snorted. "Please. The second piece is for me." She must have known that I was about to say something, because she held up her hand. "Kurt, I love you, but you do not get in between a fat girl and her cheesecake."

I still might have tried, but Tina pushed herself in between the seats. "Make it three."

_Kurt, I'm going to tell you something right now: Do not open your mouth to say anything but 'ok'. You are outnumbered two to one, and you need your attention to be on the road instead of worrying whether or not you're about to be stabbed to death over a slice of cheesecake. _

I bowed to the voices wisdom and found an Outback. 20 minutes and three slices of cheesecake later, we were back on the road and headed home.

Home to Finn.

_Home to Finn. _


	30. Chapter 30

_**Acceptance of what has happened is the first step to overcoming the consequences of any misfortune.**__**  
**__**William James**_

It was nearly 10:45 by the time I got home, but Finn was waiting up for me. He gave me a huge hug, his fingers tightening on me like he was afraid I was going to disappear. I squeezed back, and was surprised when he tipped my head up to give me a kiss. Something sparked, the same way it did every time Finn kissed me, but I was nervous as well. I pulled back, just enough to speak. "Dad and Carole?"

He smiled against my lips. "Mom's still at work and your Dad's asleep. He was really tired, and he said that I could be trusted to make sure you got home ok."

That was a sly move on Dad's part. By showing this small trust in Finn, he was building the bond between them and making it clear that he thought he could count on Finn. I'm sure that he hoped that, one day, Finn would feel like he could count on Dad back.

Speaking of Finn, he was tugging on my arm. "Come on, come on! Don't you want to see them?"

Them? He better not mean what I thought he did. "What's them?"

"The rats! I thought about what you said, and I sucked it up and asked your Dad to take me to get them." He smiled happily. "You were right, he was really nice about it and he even took me to lunch." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "He didn't make me do anything with him, either."

As pleased as I was that Finn was doing a little better with Dad, I was still horrified at the thought of multiple rodents sharing a bedroom with me. "I'm glad, but I thought we agreed on one rat, that you would take care of all by yourself. How did it become multiple rats, and exactly how many are we talking about?" My overactive brain was supplying me with images of hordes of swarming beasts, all carrying the plague.

_Not to mention, why didn't your father stop Finn from getting more then one? Come on, you would think that he would at least act like the voice of reason here._

"Two. We were just going to get one, but then the guy at the store said that they would be happier if we got two." He nudged my shoulder with his. "One of them can be yours if you want."

That was not exactly the bribe that he thought it was. But I didn't want to do anything to ruin Finn's happiness, so I made myself smile. "Sure, lets go meet the rats."

As it turned out, I couldn't have missed the rats, even in the dark. Their cage was at least 5 feet tall, and filled with ramps and little toys for them to climb on. One of the creatures was standing up; his little paws wrapped around the bars and his tiny nose poking through. Finn opened the door and picked it up, the rat sitting happily in his palm. He scratched its head. "His name is Leo. Well, Leonardo, but Leo for short."

I had to admit, it was kind of cute. Its eyes weren't beady, but like little black pearls. When I gathered my courage and lightly stroked its back, the fur was silky and soft, white with some tan spots. Leo turned his head, his whiskers brushing over my finger and making me shiver. "Ok, he's not as bad as I thought he would be. Not scary or filthy at all. Is he named after Leonardo Da Vinci?"

Finn looked at me like I had sprouted a second head. "Who?"

"Leonardo Da Vinci? The guy who painted the Mona Lisa?" Sometimes it's hard to tell if Finn is being deliberately obtuse, or if he really doesn't' understand what's going on.

"Oh, the guy with the code? No, he's named after the Ninja Turtle." Finn put the rat back and pulled a second one out. "This one can be yours if you want him. If you don't, it's ok, but you can still name him."

Despite the part of my brain that was screaming about filth and germs, I put out a hand and let him put the little beast in my palm. It weighed almost nothing, scrabbling around as it stared at me. Reflexively, I brought my hand to my chest to try and contain it, causing it to put its paws on my shirt. My rat was white with a black patch over its eye and a single black spot on one hind leg. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"They're both boys." Finn had that funny smile on his face, the one I could never quite interpret.

"He's smaller then I thought he would be." It was foolish, but the only thing I could think of saying.

"They're just babies. Once they get bigger and are bonded with us, we can teach them tricks. You can even teach them to play fetch, just like a dog!" He looked so pleased that I couldn't bring myself to burst his bubble by telling him that I was pretty sure he was never going to manage that. "So, what do you want to call him?"

"Michelangelo. Mikey for short. Named after both the artist _and_ the Ninja Turtle."

He gave me a shocked look. "_You_ know who the Ninja Turtles are?"

"Finn, I'm gay, not completely ignorant. Yes, I watched the Ninja Turtles when I was little."

A goofy smile spread across his face. "You are _awesome_!" He touched the rat. "Hi, Mikey." He yawned heavily. "Sorry, I'm kind of tired."

Now that I looked at him, I could see the circles under his eyes, and the slightly glassy look to them. While he had gotten plenty of sleep last night, the day had been emotionally wearing, between me not being there and him taking the step of going somewhere with just Dad. "I brought you some cheesecake, but why don't we wait and have it for breakfast tomorrow."

"Ok." The fact that he was willing to wait told me how tired he was. "Oh, I got you a present while your Dad and I were out, too!"

"Isn't the rat my present?" I still wasn't 100% sure that I wanted a rat of my own, but I appreciated the gesture. I gently put it back in its cage and turned to face him.

"Well, yeah, but this is another present." He looked down. "It's kind of dumb, I guess."

Knowing Finn, it might well be, but it would also be straight from the heart, which made up for just about everything. "I'm sure it isn't. Now what is it?"

"Close you eyes, ok? I want it to be a surprise." I did so, and his hands wrapped around my upper arms, gently guiding me across the room. Unless my orientation was totally confused, he had brought me over to the mirror. "Keep them closed."

I obeyed, listening to him tread across the room and rummage around behind the bed. Then he was back and something was placed on my head, so gently that it didn't even muss my hair. "Ok, look."

When I opened my eyes, I couldn't help but laugh. Apparently Dad had taken Finn to Burger King, and he had come up with one of the paper crowns to give me. Finn studied my reflection. "Do you like it? I know you told Rachel that you missed your tiaras, and I thought that a tiara might be some kind of scarf or something, but when I looked it up, it said it was a crown! So I brought you one as a replacement." His nose wrinkled. "I think that maybe a tiara's one of those little dainty ones, though."

I couldn't help but kiss him again. Finn had actually been paying attention when I complained to Rachel yesterday. Beyond that, he had gone out of his way to get me what he considered to be a replacement for my poor lost tiaras. "It's perfect and sweet. Just like you."

His answering smile could have lit the sun. "Good. I like it when you smile like that."

I wondered what he meant, exactly, but then I caught sight of myself in the mirror and almost didn't recognize the boy staring back at me. Who was this young man with the huge smile and the dancing blue eyes? It couldn't be me. I had a pale, drawn face that always looked half-scared. My eyes were a flat grayish-blue, not the pretty turquoise I was seeing right now.

_You're wrong. _This_ is you, Kurt, the way you're meant to look. You're very handsome, when you let yourself go and don't hide behind your worries. _

Was that true? I had never thought of myself as handsome. I knew I was well groomed and perfectly dressed at all times. But handsome? No. But this boy in the mirror, the one wearing the goofy paper crown, was. I smiled at him again, and he smiled back. Then I turned to my boyfriend. "Finn, am I handsome?"

"Dude, you're perfect." He gave his head a quick cock. "Except when you nag. But, yeah, you're very handsome. Why?"

"Just asking." I studied us in the mirror, noticing all the differences between us. No matter what Finn thought he saw, I couldn't help but notice all my flaws. Too small, too pale (except for those thrice damned freckles), too skinny. Finn looked like a man and I looked like…well, a girl.

_You do not! Actually, you're exactly Finn's type. Small, slender, with pale skin and a sarcastic mouth. You just happen to come with a penis as well._

The penis was, of course, the sticking point. Finn claimed to be fine with it, but I wasn't sure whether or not I believed that. He had seen me naked, yes, but he had also seen the entire football, basketball, and baseball teams naked. Naked wasn't that big of a deal to him. The true test would come later, when he wanted to touch me, or have me touch him. Then it would be real to him, what I had that the girls he had dated didn't.

For the moment, though, he seemed unaware of all of that. Actually, right at the moment, he was busy making faces at himself in the mirror, each more grotesque then the last. I yawned and tapped his shoulder. "I don't know about you, Cowboy, but I'm ready for bed. I've been up since 3:30."

He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I'll get changed." He chose pajamas and went into the bathroom to dress and brush his teeth.

I changed in the main room, humming softly to myself. Finn had to know that the girls were onto us, no matter how hard it was for me to say. He and I were a team now, and we needed to act like one.

Finn came back out and settled on my bed for out nightly cuddle and talk. I kissed him one last time. "Let my brush my teeth, first, ok? Then I have something to tell you."

"I have something to tell you, too." He was rearranging the pillows as he spoke, and his voice gave no indication of what he was really feeling.

I brushed my teeth as fast as I could and came back out. Finn was stretched out on the bed, so I laid next to him, my head on his chest. His heart was beating faster then normal, so I knew that he was worried. "Do you want to go first, or should I?"

"I'll go. Tina and Mercedes are asking a lot of questions about us. I didn't tell them anything, but I think they already know."

"How did they know if you didn't tell them anything?" Finn was giving me a suspicious look.

I rubbed his arm. "Well, Tina was suspicious because _you _were asking her so many questions about me. Why were you doing that, anyway?"

"I kind of had to. I kept trying to tell you that I was interested in you, and that I wanted to talk about it, but you didn't really get it."

Such a Finn plan. "You couldn't have just said 'Kurt, I'm interested in you'? That was all it would have taken."

His chest jerked in breathy laughter. "I didn't really think of that. Because if you said no, then you would think that I was some kind of freak, and we would still have to share a room, and it would just be weird. Besides, I thought that you would want me to do something special for you. But I didn't know what to do, so I asked Tina to give me some ideas."

I squeezed him tightly. "Believe me, Cowboy, you just saying it would have been enough." Actually, if he had just come out and said it, I would have probably passed out from shock.

"I didn't think that gay guys did it like that. I didn't know I was just allowed to _ask_ you to be my boyfriend." He craned his neck so we could be eye to eye.

"Finn, gay guys are just like straight guys, except we like men instead of women. When a gay man is attracted to someone, they ask them out, just like you would ask a girl out. Why is that so hard for you to accept?" Finn's stupidity never bothered me, but it really got me irritated when he was deliberately ignorant.

"Because _you_ didn't!" He sounded hurt and frustrated. "You liked me, and don't pretend that you didn't, but you wouldn't say that you did! You didn't do it, so I thought that maybe gay guys couldn't just come out and say they wanted to be with someone."

_Well, I hope that makes you feel good, Kurt. Finn might be acting kind of stupid, but he was only following your example._

Yeah, it made me feel really good. About as good as when my father came home with an outfit purchased solely at Walmart. Actually, this might be worse. I sat up so Finn and I were face to face. "What would have you have said if I had told you I liked you back then?"

"No." Finn didn't back down. "I would have said that I thought you were cool, but that I didn't like you like that."

"What changed?" The minute the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Why did I insist on being such a jerk sometimes, especially when I knew how badly simple words could wound someone?

Finn's eyes darkened with hurt. "Everything." He started to get up, to return to his own bed, but I grabbed his arm.

"Wait, Finn. I'm…I'm sorry." I tugged him gently until he sat back down. He was still tense and wary, but he let me rub his shoulder. "That was cruel and it came out wrong. What I meant was, when did your feelings about me change?"

"I don't know." His muscles slowly unknotted under my hands, but I could tell he was ready to bold at the slightest provocation. "Not when I first came back, but I wasn't really thinking about anything like that, then. Actually, I don't really remember that very well at all. Like, seriously, the first two weeks are like some sort of dream now."

That made a lot of sense. With the amount of trauma he had undergone, not only at the Wrights, but the night spent alone on the porch, then having to go to the hospital and have a rape kit done, a certain amount of shutting down was probably what had saved Finn's long-term sanity. "I understand."

He gave me a tiny, crooked smile. "After that, you were always there. Like, always. I know that you pretty much gave up your whole summer, so, thanks for that."

"No problem. We're a family, and we stick together." 

"Anyway, you were this super cool guy, but you were still a guy. So I thought that we could just be friends and brothers and that would be cool, too. I knew that you liked me, but you weren't doing anything about it, so it was safe."

_See? What did I tell you? You backed off, and you let Finn come to you, and he did. Would you like to say thank you to me right now, or would you like to sulk for a while first?_

Reluctantly, I gave my mental voice my thanks. It had told me exactly what to do, while I would have just screwed it up on my own. While I was thinking about it, Finn gave me a poke. "Are you listening to me?"

"I am. So, what changed? I _do_ still have a penis, you know."

He laughed. "I know. I saw it the other day."

My face heated with embarrassment. And maybe a tiny amount of arousal, but I wasn't going to talk about that. "I remember."

"Well, that's kind of it." His voice got softer, but he didn't stop talking. "I mean, I already know that I can get off from being with a guy. That was the problem before. It wasn't that you weren't great, and that I didn't like you. It was just that I couldn't imagine that I could, you know, get hard being with a dude."

Being able to get hard wasn't the same as actually enjoying it, but I was afraid to bring that up. Finn kept going, though, as if he was reading my mind. "So, um…then I saw you in the bathroom, and I'm still really sorry, by the way, and I saw _everything_ and it was…ok."

"Wow, Finn, you sure know how to make a guy feel sexy." Really? My equipment was just 'ok'?

"Huh?" Then he was laughing again, leaning down to kiss the top of my head. "No, not like that. I mean, whenever I saw Josephs junk, I felt all dirty and like I would puke, so I thought that I would feel that way about everyone. But I didn't feel like that when I saw yours, so that was good. I mean, we were already kind of in a relationship anyway, just without the sex. And if the sex was a maybe, I thought that I could try. You stuck with me this far, maybe you would still be interested."

"And I was. We'll worry about the sex later, though. Neither one of us is ready for that sort of step." I had to keep emphasizing that, just so he was sure.

"Dude, I get it. But back to your original question. Go ahead and tell them. I told you it was ok the first night."

Now that he said that, I did remember him telling me not to lie if asked directly. "I just wanted to be sure."

"I am." His hand found my shoulder blades, and he rubbed quietly for a while. I was almost asleep when he nudged the top of my head with his chin. "So? Do you want to hear what I had to tell you?"

"Of course." Honestly, I had forgotten that he had anything to tell me at all, but, judging by the look on his face, it was important.

"I, um…" He blew out a short breath while he tried to formulate his thoughts. "Do you remember when Rachel came over, and we were getting ready? You know, you came upstairs and I was talking to Officer Ready, but I wouldn't tell you what I was talking to him about?"

"I do. Are you ready to tell me about it?" Since that voice had been so adamant about it before, I left all the choices up to Finn.

He nodded. "I know where the pictures are. The police couldn't find them when they searched the house, but I know where they are."

This was a classic example of 'Finn logic'. He had been thinking about the aforementioned pictures for several days, so therefore, he assumed that I knew exactly what he was talking about when, in reality, I was drawing a blank. "The pictures?"

"The ones _he_ took. The bad ones." Finn was whispering now, like he was afraid that someone else would hear him.

"The pictures that Joseph took of you?" I knew that they were, but I also knew that it would be easier if Finn didn't have to say it himself.

"Yeah." He sighed deeply, his fingers stroking the side of my neck.

"That's good, though. The more evidence the police have, the better chance of a conviction and that man spending the rest of his life in prison, hopefully being treated about the same way he treated you."

"I think that they did it to other people, too." Finn was talking to himself more then he was talking to me. "I was thinking about it this morning, when I was down here hiding from your Dad. They didn't just hurt me; they hurt other people, too. They killed them."

It was a thought that had entered my mind more then once, especially in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep. Ever since that night when Finn had first talked to me, I had known that he wasn't their first victim. I had just been way too frightened to say anything out loud, even to myself. "What makes you think that?"

Finn was quiet for what felt like forever, even though the clock said that it was only 2 minutes. Finally he came out with what he was thinking. "It's behind the computer desk."

This was one of Finn's issues. He needed to have his thoughts in perfect order before he could function properly. Unfortunately, it took him a while to get them that way, and most people weren't patient enough to wait for it. So he had developed the habit of blurting out the first thing that came to mind, just to buy himself enough time to finish thinking. I remained noncommittal. "Ok."

The clock ticked off a further four minutes and Finn took a deep breath. "There's a safe in the wall behind the computer desk. It's the kind you see in the movies, you know, like behind a painting?" He waited for me to nod before he continued. "So, Joseph has the computer desk in front of it, because it's easy to hide it that way. Sometimes, after he took pictures, he would burn them on a CD and then put them in the safe. He always made me cover my eyes when he did the combination on it, but I would peek when he put the CD in."

This wasn't the end of the story, but he gave an extra long pause anyway. My hands were clenched so tightly that my palms were starting to bleed, but I knew that any attempt to rush him would make him freeze up and refuse to continue. Still, I thought I might scream before he was able to keep going.

But he finished in the end, even if it was only with a few words. "There were a lot of CDs in there."

My vision blurred. Even though Finn had flat out told me that the Wrights fully intended to kill him, and had even taken him out to the desert to do so, the narrowness of his escape only became clear to me in this moment. I slipped a hand underneath Finn's T-shirt to touch his back, needing to feel the warmth of his skin. He was alive. No matter what else had happened to him or anyone else, he was alive. "Did you tell Officer Ready all that?" 

"Uh-huh. He said that they were going to do a second search of the house." He stretched tiredly. "Maybe they moved the CDs, though."

If it had been me, I would have gotten rid of them entirely, as soon as I was back from leaving Finn on our front porch. Burn them, smash them, bury them, anything to get rid of the evidence. After all, there was no way for them to be sure that Finn wouldn't start talking the minute he saw someone familiar.

_I don't know about that. They managed to scare him into total silence for almost two months. If Finn is to be believed, all Joseph told him was that he shouldn't say anything about them. No one ever said not to talk at all. Honestly, I could see where they believed that their control over Finn was absolute and unbreakable. You want to know something else? If it hadn't been for you, it might have been. _

Was that true? That voice hadn't lied yet, but I'm also fully aware that the voice is entirely the product of my own brain. I wouldn't be the first person to get caught up in a little self-aggrandizing.

_Of course it's true. Who did he sign to first? You. Who did he talk to first? You. Who did he tell about these pictures and CDs first? You. Finn loves you, whether he really understands what that means or not._

"They probably didn't." Finn yawned again. "Move the stuff, I mean. Joseph knew that he wouldn't get caught."

I gave him another kiss and nudged my way under the covers with him. It's always chilly in the basement, and I needed Finn to keep me warm. I snuggled into his side, amazed as always at the perfect way we fit together. "But he _did_ get caught."

"This time. And that almost didn't happen." One long arm came and wrapped around my body, pulling me close.

"What do you mean?" I knew, of course, but I always tried to keep Finn talking as long as possible. Somewhere, in the back of my brain, was the eternal fear that I would wake up and find out that he had gone mute again. Or, worse, that he had never come back at all.

It was hard to remember that at times like this, though, with my face pressed against Finn's neck, and his heart thumping under my hand. He was focused on the ceiling, not seeming at all interested in what was happening, though I knew that it was all an act. "I almost didn't tell you what his name was. I was just going to pretend that I didn't know. Then no one would have caught him."

I sat up again, so I could look him in the face. His eyes came down to mine, barely focused. He was serious. Finn had seriously considered not telling us the name of a man that he knew to be a rapist and murderer. "How could you do that?" My voice had shot up into a pterodactyl shriek.

"Because I didn't want to!" He was yelling now, too, his temper flaring. "I didn't want to have to go to the police station, and tell them all that shit, and I didn't want to have to see the pictures, and I didn't want to have to ever think about it again! I just wanted to be able to come home and have it all be over. I'm tired of it all!"

My own inner bitch rose. "Well that's too bad! It did happen, and it's not going to be over until he's dead or in jail."

"You don't get it." Now he was wavering between angry and desperate.

I bit down on my tongue, because Finn was right. I couldn't understand what had happened, because I had never experienced anything like it, and, with even the slightest bit of luck, I never would. But how could he not understand what he was saying? By even considering not naming Joseph and Lily, he was allowing them to continue with what they were doing? Finn had been lucky enough to escape, but it was becoming increasingly clear that others hadn't been so blessed. Future victims might not be so lucky either.

But screaming at Finn only shut him down and made things worse. He was used to being yelled at by every girl he had ever dated, and I was not going to fall prey to the same trap. So I went the other way and spoke as softly as possible. "You're right, Finn. Talk to me calmly, and try to help me understand why you wouldn't want to tell us the truth." 

Finn was still obviously agitated, but he did start to calm down. "I told you in the end, so why does it matter?"

I wasn't going to let him weasel out of this so easily. "It matters because it upsets you. Stress is the leading cause of both wrinkles and breakouts, you know. Now talk."

"It's humiliating. I had to tell them everything that happened. _Everything. _They say that they don't care, but I know that they're looking at me and wanting to know how come I didn't run when I had the chance. Then they want to keep asking about Puck, and they make me describe the whole thing over and over, and I don't want to. I know that Puck's dead, and that he's never coming back, but they don't need to rub my face in it all the time." He picked at the blanket. "It's over, but they won't let it be over."

Pity welled up in my chest. Not only was Finn hurting, but there was no way for me to make it better. I patted his shoulder. "Ok, now I understand. But can you understand where I'm coming from, too? How would you feel if you didn't say anything about them, and they hurt someone else?"

"Bad." I could tell that the thought had never crossed Finn's mind before. "But I feel bad, now, too."

"I know. But you shouldn't. The police understand why you didn't run. They were actually the ones that told us why, even before you were talking at all. And I'm sorry that they keep asking about Puck, but they have to. They have to be sure that they understand, so that we win the court case. Is that clear to you?"

"Yeah, I guess." His tone was one that I knew well. Finn understood, but that didn't mean he had to like it. "I'm just ready to move on, but no one will let me."

He was going to cry, I could tell. A part of me felt terrible for making him so miserable, when he had been so happy just 15 minutes before, but another part was pleased. Crying meant that he was coping, and acknowledging his loss. Samantha had told us over and over that it was good and healthy for him to cry, and it was especially good if he would seek comfort from one of us when he did it.

I didn't make it any easier to see, though. I reached out of Finn just as his face crumpled and he started to whimper. He pressed his face into my shoulder, hot tears soaking my pajama top. I didn't want to tell him that it was alright, because it wasn't and he would recognize the lie. So I comforted instead. "I know that you're unhappy, and I wish I could fix it. I wish it was me instead."

_ Do you?_

Of course not! If any of this had happened to me, I don't think that I would have ever recovered. Honestly, I don't think I would have even survived. But Finn didn't need to know that, now did he?

Finn's head popped up. "I don't. I don't ever wish that it was you or anyone else."

That wasn't true either. It wasn't that I didn't think that Finn seriously wished that someone else could have been in his place; because he never liked to see anyone else suffer, but never ever? He had never sat on our couch in the middle of the night, right after he got back, scared but unable to come to one of us for help, and wished that it had been me taken? Or Mercedes, or Tina, or Mike? Or when Joseph came for him, he had never prayed that he and Puck could switch places?

But I didn't call him on it. I just rubbed his back with my free hand and told him that he was too sweet for words. Which he really was. Finn had a temper on him, yes. But he would also go out of his way to help someone, or even just to make them happy. Like with the crown that was now hanging from one of the posts of my bed. I sat up myself and looked him in the eyes. "Do you feel better?"

He shrugged flippantly. "Yeah. I mean, I didn't think about what you were saying before, about how they might have hurt someone else." Then his eyes darkened and became downcast. Do you think that they are some other parents who are out there waiting for their kid to come home? Except they won't, because they're dead?"

Yes. Whether Finn was their second victim or their 20th, I was sure that somewhere, there was an unclaimed body and a shattered family. "I hope not."

"Me, too. But hoping for something doesn't always make it happen." He yawned. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

"Of course" I couldn't help but add the last bit. "But sometimes hoping for something does make it happen. After all, I hoped for you, didn't I?" 

He cocked his head, one corner of his mouth tucking into the half-smirk. "I hoped for a car. Or Angelina Jolie. Or a dog. So, sometimes, I guess you get what you weren't hoping for, but it's ok in the end. So, maybe it'll be ok in the end for those families, too. I mean, wouldn't you rather know if I was dead? Or would you rather keep hoping, even if I never came back?"

It was a good question, and certainly one I had asked myself many times over the four months that Finn was gone, but I couldn't answer it. "I'm glad that I don't have to make that choice."

He knew that it was a cop-out, but he smiled anyway. "Me, too. Besides there's no point in worrying about what didn't happen. Puck died, those other people probably died, and I lived. I guess it's kind of stupid to keep wondering why."

"It's not stupid to wonder." I could hear the lie in my voice, and I knew that Finn could, too. He raised one eyebrow and stared me down, asking for an explanation. "It's just hard for me to think about it. You know, losing you."

"You didn't. Well, you did, but then you found me again so it doesn't count. I'm still here, and you can't get rid of me."

"I wouldn't _want_ to get rid of you." Finn was snuggling down again, his body warm and soft against mine, his eyes closing contentedly. I just looked at him, memorizing exactly how he looked in this moment. "I would rather give up my entire closet then give up you."

"Thanks." He held out one arm, and I tucked myself underneath it, closing my eyes and trying to release the stress of my day. It was almost midnight, and I had been awake since 3:30. I was drifting when Finn spoke again. "We're doing everything backwards."

Sometimes he chose strangest times to get chatty. I forced my eyes back open and squinted at him in the dark. "We are?" 

"Yep. Usually it's asking someone out, then the first kiss, then a date, then a few more dates, and _then_ it's sharing a bed and snuggling. We missed the asking out and the date. Oh, and the sharing a bed came before the first kiss, but I don't think that that counts."

I tickled his stomach, and he laughed a little. "You can still ask, you know."

"Maybe I will." He tickled back, one hand sliding underneath my shirt for better access.

I stiffened slightly, the same way I always did when Finn touched me. He didn't mean it sexually (well, probably not, I could never be 100% sure with him), but sometimes my body took it that way. Especially when Finn's hands started to dip a little low like they were doing right now…

"Finn!" His hand had moved without warning, hitting the bottom rib that I always tried to protect because it was so ticklish. "Quit that you cretin!" 

He chuckled joyfully, and trace of his earlier sadness gone. Finn's moods have always been somewhat mercurial, and that tendency had only increased since he had been back. It was either perfectly happy or barely able to get out of bed with him, very little middle ground. This made him a joy to be around when he was goofy and happy, but not much fun when he was sulking.

Really, though, Finn's sulking moods happened less often then one would think, and far less often then he had a right to have them happen. Actually, he was more even tempered now then he had ever been Before. It made me a little sad, even though I knew that it was better in the long run.

I took advantage of his good mood to snuggle against him. "Can we go to sleep now? I love my tiara and I like my rat. Now I just want to snuggle with my boyfriend."

"Snuggling's good." We found our positions easily, like we had been doing this our entire lives instead of just a few weeks. "Oh, I forgot. Did you have a good shopping trip?"

"The best. Now sleep." I laid my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat get slower and slower as his muscles relaxed. Once I was almost sure that he was out, I gave his neck a gentle kiss and whispered "love you, Finn."

"I know."


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: I swear that I really do work on all of my stories, but several of them have to be handled very…delicately, so updates aren't as frequent. Plus, my foster puppy takes a lot of my time. I actually have the crazy thing swimming laps in the bathtub, just so she doesn't destroy the place.

_**Temper tantrums, however fun they may be to throw, rarely solve whatever problem is causing them. **_

_**~Lemony Snicket**_

I woke up the next morning tired and cranky. I hadn't slept long enough, but I had forgotten to close the curtains last night and the bedroom had grown too light for me to stay comfortable. I rubbed at my eyes, trying to wake up. Not to mention, how in the world was Finn simultaneously drooling on the back of my neck and digging his elbow into my leg? 

_I don't think that's his elbow..._

I was wide awake in an instant, all traces of sleep vanishing. Oh, God, what did I do now?

If I was freaking out, Finn didn't seem the slightest bit disturbed. He just breathed steadily against my neck, dead to the world. I pushed my elbow back, nudging him gently in the stomach. "Roll over, Finn, please roll over." The words came out as a strained whimper.

Of course he didn't. He just tightened his one arm over my chest and mumbled indistinctly. The horny teenage boy in me overpowered the guilty part and I took measure of the situation I was in. And from what I was measuring, Finn possessed more then adequate equipment.

My conscience tried to speak up, but I mentally shushed it. I wasn't doing anything wrong. I wasn't hurting or scaring Finn right now. Actually, Finn seemed to be having a pretty good time. All I had to do was stay still and let him get off. This was actually a sacrifice on my part.

_Whatever you need to tell yourself. But you're right. Right now you're ethically in the clear. You're just fine until you stick your hand down your own pants. _

I wasn't going to- yeah, I couldn't even pretend to be indignant about that accusation. One the shock of what was happening had worn off, my libido had come roaring to life. I was a bad, bad person.

"Kurt." Despite his earlier incoherency, my name was perfectly clear coming out of Finn's mouth in a soft moan. "Please."

I twisted to look at him, but his eyes were still tightly shut. I had to be sure. "Finn?"

No reaction. He didn't stop thrusting against me, either. It was a good thing that I didn't believe in Hell, because I would probably burn there for what I was about to do. Even though I felt guilty, I slid a hand into my pajama bottoms. I was already rock hard, and I knew that this wasn't going to take long.

Finn was talking steadily now, but it was all gibberish. It didn't sound like frightened gibberish, though, which was a good thing. The first hint of fear from him and this whole thing was done. I would get up and sleep in Finn's bed (trying not to wonder when the last time he changed the sheets was, of course) and leave him in mine.

It didn't seem to be an issue, though. Finn was mouthing at the back of my neck now, and, if I wasn't careful, he was going to end up leaving a mark there. "Gentle, Finn."

Maybe he wasn't as out of it as he seemed to be, because he eased up instantly. "Finn, are you awake?"

"No, I'm just…I'm….What time is it?...Is…is it dinner?...Never mind, I'm sleeping." He fell silent just in time for me to start giggling. Sleepy Finn was cute Finn. Sleepy Finn was apparently also horny Finn.

My laughter turned into a breathy moan as Finn jerked against me. Right, I guessed I better get on with the horribly inappropriate masturbatory session. I was the worst sort of person.

That didn't stop me from putting my hand back down my pants. Then I thought better of getting disgusting bodily fluids on myself and slipped out of my pants and boxer shorts and tossed them over the side of the bed. Finn seemed to like that, if his increase in speed was any indication.

Since this wasn't a planned self-exploration, I wasn't properly set up. The proper set up involved scented candles, mood music, and proper lubricant. Also, I sometimes required a viewing of Top Gun as a warm up. Usually, though, my imagination (and memories of Finn from the locker room) was enough. 

This, however, was the hottest thing that had ever happened to me. Even if Finn was never willing or able to go this far again, I would never forget this. Since it was such a special moment, I was willing to forgo the usual niceties. I could not, however, do without lube. I took a quick survey of my nightstand, looking for anything that might suffice. Nothing, nothing….oh, no, there was _no way_. No way I could use my $62 an ounce face cream on my genitalia. It was….it was revolting. Then Finn moaned behind me and it got a lot less revolting and a lot more something that was going to happen.

Guiltily, I snatched the tube and popped the top. When I was telling this story to….well, I guessed I didn't know who I was going to be telling this story to, since this was a secret relationship, but someone. When I was repeating this story for the grandkids, this part was getting left out. Actually, every part involving my pants being off was getting left out.

I squirted a little bit of the lotion into the palm of my hand and touched myself again, lightly this time. Only a tiny touch, and it was making me shiver. Finn grumbled against my neck, his hand coming to rest on my stomach. For someone who had barely even thought about sex for most of my life, it was shockingly easy for me to come up with all sorts of mental images of what else I would like him to do with that hand.

I stroked myself a little harder, feeling ashamed, but not nearly ashamed enough to stop. As my father had tried to tell me (and I had screamed and plugged my ears because I was _so_ horrified) it was normal and healthy to masturbate, but I knew that this wasn't exactly what he had in mind.

Without warning, Finn's body stiffened against mine, going rigid and very, very, still. It was the culmination of my fantasies, and enough to pitch me over the edge as well. Once I had quit shaking, I whispered to Finn, trying to see if he had woken up. "Cowboy?"

He snuffled a little into the back of my neck, but didn't respond. I waited for a few minutes, but it didn't appear that he was going to wake up. I was relieved, then felt even guiltier that I was relieved. Like I was some sort of pervert for not stopping Finn, even though I wasn't sure how I could have.

_Leave the bed?_

Sure, now she had a suggestion. I slid out of bed and padded to the bathroom to clean up, grabbing my pants off the floor as I went. I hadn't done anything wrong. I hadn't hurt Finn, I hadn't scared Finn, I hadn't done anything.

Except I had used Finn. Maybe not in the same way that Joseph had, and I was motivated by love instead of a desire to possess him, but it was the same thing. I had used his body to pleasure mine, without asking for his consent. It was wrong, no matter what I had tried to tell myself earlier. So how did I make this right? 

_Tell him. Tell him what you did and ask that he forgive you. Be gentle and direct. You don't have to be graphic, but be honest._

My stomach rolled in anticipation, but I knew the voice was right. If I didn't say anything about this to Finn, the guilt would eat at me until I couldn't stand it any more. Finn would understand. He would just have to.

I waited for the voice to tell me that I was worrying for nothing, that of course Finn would understand and forgive me, but there was nothing. This time, I was totally on my own.

"Kurt?" Finn's voice was _hoarse_ with sleep. "Where are you?" 

"Bathroom." My voice didn't shake, which made me feel a little better. But then the coward in me took over, and I couldn't look him in the face. "I'm about to get in the shower, so if you need something, come get it now."

"But I need a shower, too, and I promise I need it more then you do!" He was still too sleepy-sounding to actually whine, but his tone wasn't too far off. "You take forever to do it, and there's never any hot water when you're done! It's not like you have plans for today and I do!"

He was right on all counts. I'm sure that he was sticky in unpleasant places, which meant he did need the shower more then I did. I took way longer then he did, since I had to not only exfoliate and use three conditioners, but a mud mask on alternate days. Hey, it took a lot of work to look this good.

_Plus, you kind of owe him._

Still, I had a schedule to keep and I didn't like cold showers either. But giving in too early would ruin the friendly competition between Finn and I. "This is the first I'm hearing about any plans of yours!"

"No it isn't. I have testing today, remember?" 

Just like that, I did remember. Today was the day that Finn would go to McKinley and be tested to see if he would pass the 10th grade. In reality, it didn't matter much, since he wouldn't actually be going back to the building itself until at least December, possibly all year. But, in terms of Finn's self-esteem, it meant everything. The humiliation of being left back a grade would be devastating to him. "That's right. Are you worried?"

He didn't answer, which I found a little concerning. "Finn?"

"Can you come out, please?" His voice was breathy and strange.

_He knows._

Well, it wasn't like I hadn't planned to tell him later today anyway. "Sure."

Finn was sitting on his bed, his arms wrapped around his body. Despite his defensive (probably unconsciously so) posturing, he didn't look particularly upset. Embarrassed maybe, but not traumatized. I came up to his side and, when he didn't make any effort to pull away, sat next to him. "What's up, cowboy?"

"I...uh…what happened? I'm all, um, gross and I don't know why." Now he sounded a little panicked, but he pressed closer to me instead of pulling away. Clearly he wasn't blaming me, at least not yet.

As delicately as possible, and using small words, I explained what had happened. Finn nodded throughout, accepting everything I told him without any discernable expression. When I was done, he shrugged. "Sorry, dude."

I was so shocked that I couldn't even correct his use of the term 'dude', something that I despised. "For what? I was the one who took advantage of you!"

"No you didn't. I was the one who took advantage, because I humped you like a nasty old hound dog. You didn't even touch me." Finn just wasn't getting it.

"I was awake and you weren't, which absolves you of all responsibility. I don't think you understand what happened here." I didn't want him to absolve me of all responsibility. He was supposed to be angry. I _needed_ him to be angry.

His eyes narrowed, meeting mine defiantly. "You know, Kurt. I'm not a moron."

Uh-oh. I didn't want him to be this sort of angry. I much preferred screaming, out of control, Finn to quiet, scathing, Finn. "I know that you aren't." My voice was cautious and placating.

"Then don't treat me like one." I could tell that I hadn't soothed him at all.

We were teetering on the edge of a massive confrontation, which was the last thing we needed right now. "I'm not trying to. I'm trying to answer your question as honestly as I can."

He sighed. "Just because I don't agree with you, that doesn't mean that I don't get it. You think you were wrong. I think you weren't. What is it that I don't understand?"

When he put it that way, I guessed that it did make sense. "Because if I'm not to blame then no one is." It came out depressingly small.

"That's a good thing, you know." His forehead had creased, and I knew I had finally confused him. "Sometimes bad shit just happens and it's no one's fault. You just have to accept that and move on."

There was a part of me that wanted to keep arguing, to scream until Finn saw things my way, but I didn't. Because I was wrong, and this time I could see it before my own stubbornness got me in trouble. Besides, I was willing to concede that Finn might know what he was talking about here. After all, he was the king of having bad shit happen to him for no reason. But it didn't change my deep down feelings. "Ok. If _you _feel like what happened wasn't my fault, that's what matters."

It wasn't, not really, but I wanted it to be and that went a long way towards making it true. But I didn't want to upset Finn, not right before he had to go for his testing.

"No it isn't." Finn was accusatory now, which made me feel defensive, which made me feel guilty again and maybe a little angry, too. My emotions were in a jumble and why wouldn't he just let me feel guilty and get it over with? The pressure was building for both of us, and this could only come to a bad end.

"Fine, Finn. It's _not_ ok. You're right about everything and I'm wrong. Except you seem to have no idea what I'm wrong about, because first you're telling me it's not my fault, then you're telling me it is. Ok, it's _all_ my fault. It's my fault you got taken and my fault that you couldn't talk and my fault that about what happened this morning. Does that make you happy or should I do a little groveling while I'm at it?" I forced my voice to be as bitchy as I could possibly make it, even though all I wanted to do was cry. I would be damned before I showed more weakness in front of Finn then I had already.

"I didn't say-"Abruptly he cut himself off. "You know what; I'm not going to fight with you. I'm going to take a shower, then I'm going to go and take these stupid tests so I'm not a flunky along with everything else fucked up about me. But if you want to whine and bitch and be miserable, do it all by yourself. I'll use Mom and Burt's shower."

He grabbed his clothing off the side of the bed and stood up, stalking up the stairs. He paused at the top, one hand on the doorknob, and I knew he was fighting with himself about whether or not to speak. Finally he did, his voice low. "It's not your fault that I couldn't talk, and I talked for you because I thought that you would listen. But you don't."

If he had screamed and raged and thrown a tantrum, it would have been one thing. I could have screamed right back. Said all the hurtful, hateful, things that I could have come up with. But the hurt in his voice stole mine right away from my lips, and I could do nothing but watch as he left, closing the door with such exaggerated care that it was somehow even louder then a slam.

Without him standing there, my anger cooled and vanished, leaving a gnawing sense of guilt in its place. I listened. I listened to everything Finn told me, no matter how horrible. Didn't I?

_You do. Well, most of the time, you do. 9 times out of 10, you listen to everything Finn tells you, and you don't judge him. But sometimes all you do is hear him._

Listening and hearing were the same thing.

_Are they?_

Of course they were. Whenever Finn wanted to talk to me, I dropped whatever I was doing and listened to him. Then I did whatever I could to solve the problem. So how could he say I didn't listen to him?

Only…I guessed I really hadn't done that just now. Finn had told me that he didn't blame me for what had happened. Finn's generally honest if I ask him directly, which meant that he really didn't blame me. But I hadn't accepted his words and, while I hadn't come right out and said it, I had managed to invalidate his feelings as well with my snarky response. Great.

_And that, my dearest, is the difference between hearing and listening. You heard Finn, but you didn't listen to him. Now, how are you going to fix this? And can I suggest doing a better job of it then you did this past time? _

Yes, she could. And _I_ could suggest that she shut the hell up, which I was currently doing. How had things gone from being so good the past few days to being so horrible right now?

There was no response to that, leaving me not only unsure of the future, but of the present as well. I sat on my bed, feeling the warmth from where Finn and I had been snuggled just a few minutes before. If I just sat here and waited, would Finn come back? Would the door creak back open, and his heavy tread come down the stairs, miserable and asking forgiveness?

Would he? Should he? Or should I be the one chasing after him, just like always? Did he want me to chase him or should I just let him go for now? I could always talk to him tonight, once he had had a chance to cool down. Or would that be waiting too long? Maybe his anger would fester instead, making what would have been a brief tiff and make up session turn into a fight that neither one of us could recover from. Things had been so _easy_ when I wanted Finn but thought I could never have him.

_It's always easy until you do it. I'm sure that your father thought that parenthood would be perfectly simple. He would have this fun jock son, who would sit on the couch and watch the game with him. A strong son who would try and talk him into sharing a beer while they admired the cheerleaders and Mom puttered around in the background, alternately scolding me for trying to drink underage and pretending she didn't see it when he finally gave in and passed you a can with a quick wink. But it's never what you think it will be._

No, it wasn't. Instead of his perfect fantasy, Dad got a gay son and a dead wife. There would be no watching of the game, and certainly no drinking of disgusting, calorie filled beers together. But that didn't mean that there was anything wrong with the way things had turned out, just that it wasn't the easiest way to do things. Right?

Then I was crying and I had no idea why, other then the pressure of everything had become way too much. I made no attempt to muffle the noise, as if I thought that would call Finn back to me.

But it didn't. He was upstairs, with his own worries, worries that both Dad and Carole were too caught up in to pay any attention to me. I pressed my face into my pillow and wiped my eyes. I could get through this, with or without Finn Hudson's help. I didn't need him. I didn't need anyone.

With that thought, I got up and marched to the bathroom. Finn would probably be done in the shower by now. And even if he wasn't, who cared? The basement was closer to the hot water heater, thus the hot water would be diverted to my shower and not his. Let the bastard freeze.

I didn't do it, of course. I was angry with Finn. Finn was angry with me. But I still had choices. We had miscommunicated, but neither one of us had been deliberately cruel. This was a fixable problem, if we would let it be.

With that in mind, I dressed without showering and went upstairs, pulling pots and pans out of the cupboards. Dad raised an eyebrow at me. "You never eat breakfast. Does this have anything to do with why Finn came storming upstairs and threw me out of my own bathroom?" 

"We had a fight." I hadn't intended to elaborate, but the truth came spilling out. "I wasn't listening to him. He was trying to tell me something important, and but I thought I knew better then he did. So I was hearing what he was saying, but I wasn't listening and he called me on it."

Dad nodded. "So you plan on apologizing with breakfast? Not a bad idea, actually."

I measured a few ingredients before replying. "He's not exactly speaking to me, so I can't just tell him."

He grunted and went back to the paper. "You know, I wouldn't be so sure about that. If the problem was lack of listening, it would be a little hypocritical of him not to listen to, and accept your apology."

Made sense in theory, but I could think of more then a few examples of hypocrisy from Finn. Not to mention, he was probably still angry with me. "Maybe."

"Just say 'Finn, I'm sorry.'. You don't need to say anything else. Brothers understand each other."

There was nothing in this world I wanted more then to tell him that Finn and I were not, and never could be, just 'brothers'. There would always be that spark between us, no matter what else happened.

But I just gave him a sickly smile. "Right. Breakfast and an apology, coming right up."

By the time Finn made it back downstairs, freshly showered and smelling like soap, I had an omelet and toast waiting on a plate for him. His eyes flickered up to mine, still hurt. "Thank you, Kurt." The words came out in an overly formal tone.

"You're welcome." I kept my voice upbeat, as if things were perfectly normal. "Are you done in the bathroom, so I can take my shower?"

"Yeah." He sat down and started eating, focused completely on his meal. It wasn't exactly a dismissal, and he no longer seemed angry, but the hurt remained. Remembering Dad's words, I reached out and stroked his shoulder, gratified when he sighed and leaned in. "I left you some hot water."

Small words, but I knew what he was actually telling me. He could have easily run out all the hot water out of spite, just like I could have turned on the hot water downstairs and left him with none. But neither one of us had given in to our petty urges. That was a good sign, right? "Finn? After you eat would you mind coming back downstairs for a minute? I have a little good luck gift for you." Not really, but I did have a few candy bars hidden in my dresser drawer for when I just couldn't help myself. Finn would be happy enough with one of them.

"Sure." He finished his meal in two huge bites, washed down with half a glass of milk. "Let's go."

That was just disgusting. I have no idea how Finn has not destroyed his digestive system yet, with the way he barely chews and just crams as much food as possibly down into himself.

Once we were downstairs, Finn sat on my bed while I leaned against the bathroom doorframe, a reverse of our positions just an hour ago. Before I could say anything, he blinked at me. "I'm sorry I was such a jerk this morning."

"You weren't." The words were a reflex, a last ditch attempt to take the blame for myself.

"I was. I was upset and I should have just explained the problem. But I threw a big tantrum instead, and that was being a jerk. Yelling and kicking things doesn't work, I have to make the effort to say something."

This was my chance to rectify my earlier mistake. "Ok, maybe you were a bit of a jerk. But I was, too. I'm sorry that I didn't listen to you when you were trying to tell me something important."

In a flash, I was treated to Finn's dazzling smile. "That's all I wanted." He flushed to the tips of his ears. "And, I'm really sorry about, uh, what I did and can we please never, never, never, talk about it again? That would be really awesome."

"There's nothing to feel sorry about. It was just something that happened, and there's nothing wrong with it or you. But we don't have to bring it up again if you don't want to."

"I don't. Ever. And I don't want to do it again." He was starting to look a little panicky, his eyes wide and showing white all around.

Even knowing what I did about what had happened, his reaction seemed a little extreme. "It's ok. I told you, you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"I don't want to do anything." He turned his head away from me for a minute and stared at the wall, seeming to gather his thoughts. Then he nodded, still looking away from me.

I hated it when he did that, even though Samantha said it was nothing to worry about. That Finn was just sorting things out in his own mind, having a mental conversation. But, even though I would never say this out loud, it made Finn look crazy, like he was hearing voices, and that scared me.

_Because it's not like you've ever had a conversation with the voice in your head, now have you? Let him be._

That was part of the problem. That voice in my head was snarky, bitchy and just plain mean. I didn't want to think about Finn having a voice like that, tearing him down.

_I'm not mean, and neither is the voice in Finn's head. Call us your consciences if you prefer. It's not like you've ever bothered to give me a_ real_ name._

"Kurt? It's ok that I don't want to do anything with you, right?" Finn was staring anxiously at me, and I wondered if he was having the same thoughts I was. If it freaked him out to see me staring at nothing and talking to my inner voice as much as it did me when I saw him do it.

I smiled, trying to disarm him. "Sure. I told you, this is all on your timeline. Now, do you want your present?"

"Yeah!" Just like that, he was perfectly happy again.

"Hands over your eyes, Cowboy. Otherwise you'll ruin the surprise." If I let him see where I kept my candy, it would all be gone by tonight.

Moving quickly, I slid open my underwear drawer (the one drawer I was sure Finn would never look in) and studied the candy inside. What would Finn like? I suddenly realized that I didn't know. Butterfinger? I knew Finn ate peanut butter. Milky Way? Did he like caramel?

_Kurt, yesterday Finn ate a Pop Tart that fell in the sink with all the dirty breakfast dishes. Do you really think he's going to turn down any sort of candy? _

Point to the voice. I grabbed the Butterfinger and closed the drawer. "Ok, Finn, eyes open."

"Sweet!" He grabbed me in an overly enthusiastic hug, lifting me off the ground and wrinkling my clothes. "Thank you, Kurt."

He peeled the wrapper off and broke off a large piece. "Here, I'll share."

Under normal circumstances, I would have refused the extra calories, but this was just the sort of day that I kept these treats for. I took the piece of candy. "Thank you."

He nibbled on his own piece, picking all of the chocolate off. "I'm only a little nervous, not much. You're a good teacher, so I'm sure I'll pass."

I smiled and tickled his stomach, listening to him giggle a little before he pulled away. "Just remember, Karofsky passed. And if David Karofsky can pass his sophomore year, so can you."

Finn gave me a tiny smile. "I guess that's true."

"Of course it is. Do I ever lie to you?"

Now it was a big smile. "No. Sometimes you're a jerk, but you don't lie about it."

Not the most flattering response, but I would accept it. "Good, so we're clear. Now, do you want me to come along?"

He shrugged. "Not if you don't want to. I know you kind of hate having to hang around the school."

"I don't mind the school itself, just the unwashed masses residing within said school. But it should be empty today, except for the teachers." The first day of school was next Monday, only 10 days away, and I knew that the staff was already preparing.

"Then you should come. You know, if you want to." He was offering me one last out. "But I really want you to."

That was good enough for me. "Ok, then I will."

"Sweet! I'm going to go tell Mom." He bounded back up the stairs, leaving me to wonder where he found his energy.

Carole had no issues with me tagging along, even offering to take us both out to lunch after. After much glaring on her part, Finn had finally taken the hint and invited Dad to come with us. He had even done it in a nonsarcastic voice. Fortunately, Dad was going to the garage this morning, so there was no way he could join us.

It wasn't until we were actually at the school that I realized the situation I had put myself in. Finn would be testing, which left me with his mother and nothing else for the next four hours. Crap. What was I supposed to say to her?

If I was worried about what to say, Carole had no such reservations. She sat down on one of the couches in the school lobby, her purse clutched in her lap. I sat next to her, leaning in. She stroked my shoulder, then pulled back to look at me. "So, Kurt. How are things? It seems like you and Finn got over your little spat."

Ok, I could handle this. "I gave him a candy bar and he forgave me. Butterfinger."

She laughed, but there was something tight about it. "That's one of his favorites."

I smiled back, but I was starting to get a nervous flutter in my stomach. "I'm glad."

We were both silent for a few more minutes, before Carole sighed deeply. "So, I'm going to assume that you and Finn have had the talk." She must have seen the face I was making, because she held up a hand. "And don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about."

"I…It's kind of private." I was squirming now, wishing that I was anywhere but here. Please, please let there be some sort of natural disaster. Earthquake, fire, at this point I would even take Karofsky.

"I'll take that as a yes. I know that this is embarrassing for you, but I need you to be completely honest. Are you having sex with my son?"

Oh, God, just let me die.

_Me, too._


	32. Chapter 32

"_**I guess what scares me the most now is the thought that I won't be able to protect you"  
― Julia Hoban, Willow**_

I just sat there and stared at Carole, my mouth gaping open. Fire was spreading all over my body, and I cursed the fact that my pale skin revealed my every emotion. "Excuse me?"

Her skin was as red as mine, which provided marginal comfort. "You heard me. Because it's too soon for him to be thinking about sex, and I know he'll do if he thinks it will make you happy."

She was right. One of Finn's greatest faults and more charming traits was that he desperately wanted to please everyone, all the time. I could see him sleeping with me just because he was so afraid that I would leave him if he didn't. "I wouldn't ask him if I didn't think he was ready. I've only kissed him one time, so it's too early for me to think about it, too."

"I wish I didn't have to worry about this, but I do. You understand, right? This isn't more then just being safe and sure. It's about respecting both his body and yours, and, unfortunately, the majority of that is going to fall on you. Finn might know what he wants, but I'm not sure that he has any idea what to do now that he has it." A slight smile tugged at her lips. "Actually, I'm not sure that he's ever known what to do once he has it."

"I love him." The words came out soft, but sure. "I know that he doesn't love me back, at least not yet, but I do love him. I want him to be happy."

That wasn't the right thing to say. It as true, but it was just _wrong_. But that was what always happened when I tried to verbalize my feelings for Finn. There was something between us that I couldn't quite get my finger on, even in my own mind, which made it impossible for me to explain it to anyone else.

If there was one thing I respected about Carole, it was that she didn't try to offer me false comfort. Maybe there was a time when she would have, but after this summer, she knew that any member of our strange, broken, little family would see right through to the lie.

So instead of telling me that of course Finn loved me, or even that he would definitely grow to love me in time, she nodded. "Love is like that."

"Were you happy with Finn's dad?" The question blurted out before it was fully formed in my brain, something that almost never happened. "I mean…you know, that was rude. You don't have to answer it."

She was quiet for so long that I was suddenly sure that she going to accept my out and ignore the question. Then she turned to study me with eyes that were nothing like her son's, except for the guarded quality lurking in their depths. "Are you asking me if I was happier with Christopher then I am with your father, or are you just asking out of curiosity?"

Until she asked, I hadn't been aware of it, but, yes, what I was really asking was whether or not she was happier with my father or some other man. I loved her, but not like I loved Dad, and I didn't want him to have to live in some other mans shadow.

_You should know what that feels like. You're already living in Puck's shadow, and you'll be there for a very, very, long time, if not forever._

There was nothing to say to that, because it was the truth. Finn was coping, and he was healing, but until he figured out a way to accept his loss completely, Puck would always be there, an invisible presence. Not that I thought there had been anything sexual between them, but Puck was still haunting us.

I squirmed, suddenly wishing that I had told Finn that I didn't want to come today. "The first one, I guess."

"Then the answer is no. What I had with Chris was passionate and wonderful, but not exactly the sort of love that lasts forever. I was just too young and blind to see it at the time."

There was more to this story then she was telling me, but I guessed I had already heard the important part. "Do you still miss him, even after all this time?" A little less then 16 years, if my calculations were correct.

"I've missed Chris for longer then he's been dead. Had things not turned out the way they did, it would have ended up as ugly as one of the celebrity divorces you like reading about in the magazines. Screaming, lawyers, dirty laundry being flung all over the place." She was talking more to herself them me now, and I was hanging on her every word. To hear Finn tell it, his parents marriage had been storybook perfect, but that wasn't the story I was hearing right now.

_I don't know why that surprises you. You remember your parents marriage the same way. Daddy worked at the garage, Mommy stayed home and baked cookies and read stories when you were little. Then you went to school and Mommy was always ready with a snack and to help you with your homework. At 6 on the dot, Daddy came home, smelling like oil, and the three of you ate dinner together every single night. Daddy always greeted Mommy with a kiss, and they never, ever fought. Is that really how it was? _

Yes. No. If I was being completely honest with myself, I wasn't sure. Not only did I not have solid memories of my parents interacting, my memories of my mother at all were fading year by year. Where it had been so easy to picture her face even two years ago, I now had to resort to looking at photographs. The only memories I had left were vauge and blurry, just snippets of her voice, or the way her perfume had smelled.

Next to me, Carole abruptly sat up, startling me out of my reflections. "But that doesn't matter now. Even if that had happened, he gave me Finn, and I could forgive him anything in the world as long as I have my boy."

"Finn is special." It was all I could think to say, but it seemed like the most important thing in the world.

"Yes, he is. So, to answer your question, I was happy with Chris, and I loved him, but loving someone isn't always going to be enough. Sometimes that love stays, sometimes it goes. That's why I want you to be careful with both Finn's heart and your own. Because everyone both of our families have had enough loss to fill a lifetime."

I hated myself for what I was about to ask, but I couldn't help it. "Are you going to leave?"

Again, she didn't lie. She knew as well as I did how quickly someone could disappear, willing or not. "I hope not."

A silence settled then, but not an awkward one. It was just a quiet that said we didn't need to say anything to each other, because it had already been said. I took a magazine out of my satchel (man-purse, whatever.) and flipped through it, catching myself up on the latest trends.

Suddenly Carole looked at her watch. "Kurt, did you eat this morning?"

I was deep into an interview with Zac Efron, so I just nodded reflexively. "Mm-hmm."

"Kurt, are you lying to me?" She was using that Mommy-tone, the one that told me she already knew the answer.

I gave her a guilty look. "Yes. But we're having lunch really soon, so it will be fine." Ever since Coach Sylvester had told me that I had hips like a pear, I didn't mind skipping a meal every now and then.

_Or every day._

I didn't skip meals every day! Especially now that Finn was back and willing to take over some of the cooking responsibilities. Who would have actually thought that Finn Hudson would be able to cook something that not only didn't give anyone food poisoning, but was actually edible?

"No, it won't be fine. You don't eat enough, Kurt, and it worries me. Besides, lunch is at least four hours away, and you haven't had anything since last night." She pulled me to my feet. "Let's go."

There was no arguing with a woman, especially a mother, when she thought that she was right. But I had to at least try, for my own pride if no other reason. "But Finn…"

"Will be in there for the next three hours at least. And if he gets out and we're not sitting right here, he knows to go find Mr. Shuester and wait for us. We had to make sure that there were at least two escape plans for him."

Damn she was good. "I can't eat a full meal now and a full meal in just a few hours. I'm not Finn; my stomach just doesn't hold that much." Even as I spoke, I was letting her drag me down the hallway.

"Then you don't have to eat that much. I'll take you for a coffee and a muffin, how does that sound?"

See, now she was doing that thing where it sounded like she was asking me for my opinion, but she really wasn't. If I said what I wanted to, which was 'too fattening and full of the bad sort of calories', she would counter by taking me somewhere where I would end up at a diner eating eggs and toast, which were far worse in the calorie department. Not to mention the only coffee choices would be black and black. So I gave her my best and least fake smile. "It sounds good."

Which was how I found myself sitting in a coffee shop 15 minutes from the school, nibbling on a bran muffin and trying to explain to Carole exactly why I needed her to convince Dad to give me an extra $300 to redecorate the basement. She wasn't exactly buying my arguments, not matter how cute I made myself look. "Didn't you get $300 from your father to decorate the night Finn and I moved in?"

"That was for Finn. I'm trying to get some money for me, so I can do some painting, or possibly wallpaper it this time."

She wasn't fooled for a second. "If I recall correctly, you ended up with that money, since you claimed that Finn wouldn't know what to do with it. Since I haven't seen any renovations going on down there, I'm going to assume that you still have it. Or are you trying to tell me that you need an additional $300, for a total of $600?"

"I don't have that money any more." And please, please, let her not ask where that money had gone. The truth was way too embarrassing.

Like a humiliation-seeking missile, she zeroed in on me. "That was earmarked for renovations. If you decided that there was something more important then fixing up the basement, then you have a problem. And, since you're so interested in sharing, you probably owe Finn $150."

I picked at my muffin. "I guess." I cursed the fact that tears were threatening again. I had always been a bit of an easy crier, which was part of the reason that I had been the target of bullies since before I had any idea what gay meant. "I can get it for him, I promise."

Just like her son, Carole could never stand to see someone upset. "Are you in trouble? Is that where the money is?"

I shook my head, watching in a detached way as I crumbled the muffin into a mess of ruined dust. Of course I was in trouble, just not the sort she meant. I was in trouble because I was in love with a boy who wasn't the boy I had fallen in love with at all, but an alternate version of himself. I was in trouble because I was going to be a junior in a school that hadn't changed at all, even though I wasn't the same person that I had been the last time I stood in its halls. I was in trouble because…well, because I was Kurt Hummel, and trouble had followed me since I was a little kid. "The money's gone."

Something about the way she looked at me told me that I could tell her the rest. "Can you promise not to tell Dad?" At her nod, I whispered the rest. "I couldn't keep the money. You were right, it was Finn's money, and I took it, and every time I looked at it, or the walls, I felt guilty. So I split it in half and put half in the box at the church, and the other half in the box at Puck's synagogue. I mean, if there is a God, and I'm not saying that I believe there is, because I don't, maybe he'd give Finn two chances instead of one." There it was, the most humiliating and least rational thing I had done since I had let Mercedes talk me into wearing her neon zebra stripes out in public. I blamed grief and guilt for both of those extremely out of character actions.

"It worked." Her voice was quiet, but I still couldn't look her in the eyes.

"No it didn't. Finn got out of there on blind luck, not because some mystical cloud Daddy decided to let him live." Now that that moment was over, I refused to revisit it again. Ever.

"Well, in this particular instance, I suppose I could make the case to your father that charitable contributions tend to be tax-deductable, and you were giving the money to charity. I'm not making any guarantees, but I can try my best."

There were times when it was nice to have more then two people in the house, so we could try and pull the old two against one on Dad. "That would be very nice of you."

She nodded tightly, and I wondered what she was actually thinking. "Are you going to eat the rest of that muffin, or just crumble it into sand?"

"I'm too nervous to eat. If Finn doesn't pass, it's going to crush him."

"Finn will pass. He's passed every year so far, and that's without your helping him. Thank you again for that, by the way. I try, but he takes it so much better when it's coming from you."

Deep down, I was pleased that she had noticed. "It's no trouble."

"We both know that that isn't true, but I'll let it go for now." She consulted her watch and phone, trying to determine how much time we had left. "Do you mind tagging along on a few errands?"

I had a sense that Carole, despite her brave words, was as nervous as I was. "Ok."

I had never run errands with Carole before, and, as it turned out, shopping with Carole was very different then shopping with Dad. When he ran errands, he meandered from store to store, never having a list, and forgetting half of what he needed. Then I would be forced to put skim milk in my coffee instead of the nonfat flavored creamer I really wanted.

Carole shopped like a woman on a mission. Lists were consulted, prices compared, and the creamer with a slight taste of mint was put in the cart. Once the groceries were bought, we stopped by the post office, then the bank. I made sure to pick up two lollipops for Finn out of the dish by the tellers station. Green, always green. I thought for a second and snatched a hard candy as well. The teller glared, and I gave her my best bitch glare back.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, telling me I had a text. I flipped it open, reading Finn's note.

Ware r u? Im done.

"Carole, Finn's finished." While I spoke, I was texting Finn back.

Bank. We'll be back in 15 minutes or so.

I was working on Finn using some proper grammar when he texted, though I was starting to suspect it was a lost cause.

Get me a lolipop?

His spelling could use a little work as well, but there was plenty of time to worry about that later. If Finn was asking for a treat, he must be feeling pretty good about his performance.

Already done. Two green lollipops and a butterscotch candy. Acceptable?

U Rock.

I smiled at the phone, even though I knew that he couldn't see it. I did rock, didn't I? 'Carole? Did you hear me?"

"Almost done. He'll be fine for a few minutes" She was fussing with the checkbook and not looking in my direction.

It sounded a little harsh, but it was a necessary thing. If Carole babied Finn by rushing to him the minute he asked for her, she would only hamper him in the long run. She had to show a little faith in him.

I, meanwhile, was about to have some sort of nervous event. What if Finn needed something, and choked up with his talking? Or, worse, what if Coach Sylvester got a hold of him?

By the time we made it back to the school, I was all but having a full on panic attack. Carole nudged me quickly. "I have paperwork to finish with so he's all set up for the tutor. You go find Finn and meet me back here in a little bit"

Considering that the school was deserted and Finn was supposed to find Mr. Shue, I wasn't terribly concerned about being able to locate him. At least I wasn't until I searched around and found both the choir room and the auditorium empty. Where else could they be? I fired off a quick text, asking where he was.

Teachers Longe

Sure enough, there he was, nibbling on a bag of Doritos while he went over a sheet of music with Mr. Shue. I stomped a foot. "Finn Hudson! We are going to eat in less then a half hour, do you really need to be porking bags and bags of Technicolor sawdust right before?"

Finn bounded to his feet, racing over to give me an enthusiastic hug. He acted like he hadn't even heard my rant, which was par for the course with Finn. "You were right, the test was really easy."

I raced a hand up his side, hitting the ticklish spots and making him twist away. "I'm glad. What are the two of you up to?" 

Like a marionette with its strings cut, Finn collapsed over the table, hiding whatever he was doing. "Nothing much. Just some stuff that we'll maybe do in Glee."

_Aw, Finn has a little crush! Haven't you waited years for some boy to get caught doing a special little project for you? To stutter and stammer and be embarrassed because he loves you so much he wants you to wait until it's perfect for you to see it?_

I absolutely had. I also understood what it was like to have a project interrupted before it was finished, when it still looked like nothing but a huge mess. So I backed up up a little, giving Finn a chance to slide what he was working on over to Mr. Shue. "We need one more person, probably a guy, right?"

Both Mr. Shue and I were too surprised to reply immediately, causing Finn to look from one face to the other, confused. "Right? Now that Puck is dead, we need one more guy." He started ticking off on his fingers. "Me, Kurt, Artie, Mike, Matt, Santana, Rachel, Mercedes, Tina, Brit, Quinn. That's 11 and we need twelve."

"Y-yes, Finn, that's right." Mr. Shuester was trying to regain his equilibrium.

"How come you're looking at me like that? It's not hard to count to 11." Then realization dawned. "Oh. You know, we don't always have to not talk about Puck. I know he's dead, and it makes me sad, but it's ok. It's not like I'm going to have meltdown if I hear his name."

"That's good to know. Did you have someone else in mind for joining Glee?" Mr. Shue was watching Finn, his expression gentle.

"Not really." He squinted. "The whole club is kind of a piranha thing. No one really wants to join. No offense." He started gathering up his stuff.

Mr. Shue and I exchanged looks over his head. He mouthed 'piranha?' at me, and I shrugged. It was hard to tell sometimes if Finn had no idea what he was talking about or if he was just misusing a word. "Finn? What sort of club is this?"

"Piranha. You know, no one wants to go anywhere near it? I guess it's because they bite." Now he looked confused as well.

"Pariah." Mr. Shue snapped his fingers. "I think you mean, pariah, Finn. Though piranha might work here as well."

Finn perked up instantly. "Piranha, pariah, same thing. But maybe someone will transfer in from a school where Glee is actually cool. Or from, like, Siberia or something. Do they sing in Siberia?"

Fortunately, Mr. Shuester was saved from having to reply by Carole poking her head in the room. "Boys? Are you in here?"

"Yep!" Finn jumped up to lay his head on her shoulder. "I finished really early, so Mr. Shue said I could come in here and help him. Did you know they have a coke machine in here? I knew that they were hiding all the good stuff where the kids can't get it."

"Honey, teachers require something in return for putting up with students all day long. Did you double check all of your answers?" She waved to Mr. Shue.

"Uh-uh. Kurt said not to."

Carole shot me a look, which I countered with a shrug. "He does better when he doesn't second guess himself. If I let him go back when we study together, he gets convinced that he got it wrong the first time, then he changes his correct answer to the wrong one. He knows this stuff; he just gets confused and over thinks it." 

"If you think so…" Her tone suggested that she didn't believe me, but what was done was done, whether or not she agreed with me.

"I do." Finn reads slowly, and his comprehension leaves a bit to be desired, but he usually gets there in the end. His issue was that he knew his comprehension was poor, so he doubted not only his answer, but that he had even read the problem correctly in the first place. And don't even get me started on his math. There were days when I wasn't completely sure Finn knew what all of his numbers looked like, much less what to do with them when he got them figured out. There were some days when he had me so confused that I started to think Finn was normal and I was the one with the learning problem.

"Mr. Shue? Can we finish this up later?" Finn was puppy-hopeful. "We're going to lunch."

Mr. Shue waved him off amiably. "Go on, Finn. I'll see you in two weeks, unless you want to come over before."

"I have to, so we can finish our..." He stole a quick glance over at me, clearly trying to figure out what to say. "You know, thing."

Subtlety, do not meet Finn Hudson. Still, it was cute as could be and I found myself smiling a little. "Where do you want to eat, Cowboy?"

"The deli!" Finn jumped up, cheerful as ever. "I can get a club and you can get whatever that salad-y thing is."

"It's just a regular Caesar salad, Finn, not a salad-y thing." I couldn't keep the affection out of my voice. He was so cute.

"Salad, salad-y, whatever." He rolled his eyes, and, for a second, he looked so much like the old Finn that my heart gave a quiet lurch. "It's still shrubbery."

I wanted to kiss him, but this was neither the time nor the place for that. "Well, Finn, when they remove 47 pounds of impacted meat from your colon surgically, you'll wish that you'd eaten a little more 'shrubbery' yourself."

He turned to Carole and Mr. Shue, both of whom were watching us with bemused expressions. "Is that true? Can that really happen?"

"I heard that that happened to John Wayne, but that might have just been a rumor." Mr. Shue gave me a quick wink, one that made me smile. He was actually pretty cool, at least some of the time.

"Oh. Maybe I'll eat some shrubbery, too." He sounded a little nervous.

I let him stew in his own nerves for a few more seconds, but finally had to chuckle. "It's ok, Finn, that won't really happen. It's a total urban legend."

He seemed to accept that, his dark eyes becoming less nervous. "Oh, good." His voice faded to a soft grumble while he groped around for his things. "Food, food, food, food. Hey, where's my backpack?"

I was starting to suspect that there was nothing in this world that would improve Finn's organizational skills. Mr. Shue rested his forehead in his hand. "You didn't come in with a backpack, Finn. Did you leave it in the classroom you tested in?"

"Probably." Finn shrugged like it was no big deal. "I'll go get it." Then he was gone, his sneakers echoing down the empty hallway.

Carole gestured at the hall. "Kurt?"

I got it; go follow Finn so the grown-ups can talk. I gave her a quick nod and stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door most of the way closed behind me. Then I stopped, my ear pressed to the gap. 

Mr. Shue spoke first. "He's doing a lot better."

It was nice to hear someone else confirm what I had already suspected. Finn was better. Not perfect, maybe not even great, but better. Mr. Shue kept going. "He's still wanting to be very close to me, and he didn't really like it when Emma came in to chat, but he held his ground. We might just get him back into school by January."

No one thought we could do it for the beginning of the year. Not Dad, not Carole, not Mr. Shue. And, if I was going to be honest here, I didn't either. If Finn wasn't ready, then he wasn't ready.

"I almost don't want him back in school." Carole's voice was much softer then his. "There are days when I don't even want to leave him with Kurt or Burt, even though I knew either one of them would lay their life down for him, no questions asked. But the three of us weren't enough last time, so how can we be enough to keep him safe now? He's the safest at home, but if I let him know that, I'll never get him out the door again."

"He'll be safe here. He'll have 10 pairs of eyes looking out for him, in addition to mine. When he's ready, we'll take good care of him. But I understand that-"

"Are we listening in on them?" Finn's mouth was suddenly right at my ear as he whispered, and I had to clamp a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming.

I pushed him gently and whispered back. "You about gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry." Since he was so close anyway, he gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"Finn, we can't do that in public." Even _if_ it was a fight not to shiver.

"No one can see. What are they talking about?"

I wasn't sure if I wanted him to hear what was being discussed. "Stuff."

He nodded. "Me, huh?"

Did any of us ever talk about anything else these days? "Yep."

"Good stuff or bad?" He leaned his ear against the door. "They aren't saying anything now."

As it turned out, the reason that they had stopped speaking was that Carole was on the look out for both of us. Before I knew what was happening, she tossed the door back open, revealing both Finn and I standing there. Her eyes went narrow, and I suddenly remembered another part of having a mother again: the fact that they didn't put up with bullshit.

Finn gave her a weak smile. "Hi, Mom. I, uh….I found my backpack."

"I helped!" I couldn't believe how eager my voice sounded. Like she was going to buy that. Like she would buy any of this.

She didn't. She just grabbed Finn by his shoulder and me by mine and spun us both around. "Eavesdropping is disrespectful and wrong."

The wise thing would have been to drop it there, but Finn has never exactly been known for doing the wise thing. "But you were talking about me! Don't I have a right to know what you're saying about me?"

"No, you don't. Have you ever heard that eavesdroppers never hear anything good about themselves?"

"No." A slight smile lurked at the corners of his mouth. "If I didn't eavesdrop on you on the phone, how would I know that Grandma Hudson was sending me a Nintendo for Christmas one year?"

Wrong thing to say. Carole's lips compressed into an even tighter line. "Do not even get me started on your father's parents. But, no, it's not alright, ever. Now tell Mr. Shuester goodbye and let's get going for lunch."

"Bye, ! I love you!" He gave the man an enthusiastic wave and bounced out the door.

We all stared after him in amazement. Was love always this casual to Finn? No, not casual, that was the wrong word. Maybe the word I was looking for was free. Despite everything that had happened to Finn, he still had a better idea of how life and love worked then I did. Maybe he had that idea _because_ of what had happened to him.

They could have fought and hated each other and even been unbelievable cruel to at times, but Finn and Puck loved each other, too. Not in a sexual way (though I would have given up every tiara in my collection, as well as my car, to get a good look at _that_ peep show), but in a way that came from proximity if nothing else. Had he ever told Puck that? Maybe, if copious amounts of booze were involved. But never seriously. Boys just didn't do that. And now they were out of chances.

Was he worried that the same thing would happen with Mr. Shue? That he wouldn't get a chance to tell the man how much he loved him before it was too late? Or maybe, having not heard the words himself for four months, he had realized just how important it was to be able to hear them.

Sure enough, Mr. Shue had a strange look on his face, almost as if he had swallowed a bug. I suddenly remembered that, he too, had lost a baby he thought was his. His child wouldn't have been talking yet (at least I didn't think so, but what did I know about babies? Maybe Quinn's could already do a perfect cartwheel), but I'm pretty sure every parent dreams of the first time their child tells them that they love him. Finn's father might have died a long time ago, but the boy certainly wasn't lacking in paternal love.

"Sorry about that." Carole shook her head. "I think he gets a little confused because his father died so early. He used to tell random men in public that he loved them, too."

Mr. Shue gave a funny little smile. "Honestly? I don't really mind. I had always kind of hoped…." He trailed off there, and I knew he wanted to say that he had always hoped that he would have a son like Finn. But there was still plenty of time for that, right? He was a young man, and there was plenty of time for him to find a wife who wasn't a complete nutcase. Especially if he let me do something about that hair. "You know, it doesn't matter. But you may want to remind him that he can't say that in front of other people. Especially a certain cheerleading coach."

Just because Coach Sylvester was being kinder to me, that didn't give Finn any extra protection. "I'll make sure he knows to keep it on the down low." It shouldn't be too difficult. After all, I had managed to hide the fact that I loved Finn for almost two years.

_Yeah, you did such a bang-up job of that, Sweetie. Not a single person suspected that you might have a major crush on Finn Hudson._

Speaking of Finn Hudson, why hadn't he come back in to demand to know why we weren't going to lunch? "I'll go get Finn."

I stepped out into the hall, scanning for my missing….boyfriend? Was Finn my boyfriend? Should I just stick with brother?

_Yeah, because 'the brother I kiss with tongue' sounds sooooo much better then 'my boyfriend'. Why do you have to call him anything? Just stick with Finn for now._

If she had waited as long for a boyfriend as I had, she would be little pickier about her terms as well. Then I turned the corner and my breath stopped. Sue had Finn trapped in the doorway, somehow seeming to loom over him despite his greater height.

I froze, still a little afraid of her, no matter how kind she had been. Sue Sylvester could turn on you without a second thought, and I wasn't delusional enough to think I was immune to that. I pressed back so they couldn't see me.

Plus, Finn seemed to be holding his own. His arms were crossed across his chest, his brow furrowed and his jaw clenched. His shoulders were squared back, not at all cringing or deferential. I couldn't hear what Coach Sylvester was threatening him with, but I had no trouble hearing his reply.

"I'm not afraid of you." His voice was flat and strong.

She smirked. "Wrong thing to say, Pork Chop. But then, you never were the brightest cookie on the sheet, were you? I suspect it might have to do with brain damage from all the second hand hairspray fumes you've inhaled from being around William Shuester."

"Why should I be afraid of you?" He wasn't backing down. "You can't do anything to me. I'm not afraid that you're going to kill me. You can threaten all you want, but I've already looked right at someone who really was going to kill me. You don't fool me. You won't hurt me either. You can push me, and you can get in my face like you're doing right now, but you won't actually hurt me. Look, I know what it feels like to be chained to a radiator for a week in 100 degree heat. Unless you can top that, I'm not afraid you'll hurt me either." Now he was the one who looked much bigger. " Anything you can say to me now is just a threat, and I'm not scared of those any more."

Just like that, Finn had figured it all out. He wasn't in physical danger. He wasn't in sexual danger. After what Joseph and Lily had put him through, he understood who was serious about hurting him and who wasn't. And once he determined that Coach Sylvester ruled by fear far more then she ruled by actions, it was a simple thing to brush her off.

Simple for Finn, that is. I was still pretty much terrified of her.

But Finn's like that. Even Before, his bravery and fears had been somewhat disproportionate to the situations at hand. Raise a baby at 16 with a girl who treated him like shit? He was afraid, but the bravery won out. Actually, I think he was the only one of the three of them who could have made a halfway decent parent. Date Rachel Berry? No fear at all. Stick up for the Glee club, even when we wouldn't stick up for ourselves? Done. Trip to the dentist? Three Valium, minimum. Centipede on the floor? I had no idea that Finn could either jump that high or scream that loud. Only centipedes, though. Something about all the wiggly little legs made him semi-hysterical. And don't even get me started on storms. What sort of teenager is still afraid of thunder?

Now Finn's life was, in large parts, ruled by his fears. I could finally shut the bathroom door all the way when I was in there, but he wouldn't do it when he was. The closet door had to be wide open, or he wouldn't go near it. Dad was able to touch him, but Finn would stiffen and squeeze his eyes shut like he expected a blow at any second. Which was strange, because he had made it very clear that Joseph and never once struck him. Don't grab Finn from behind, don't push him to talk about Puck, don't ever, _ever_, leave the house without being very clear about where you're going and when you'll be back.

But he did let Dad touch him. He was doing his best to ensure family harmony. He didn't insist that we stay home with him, or that anyone accompany him into the walk in closet. He had even agreed to go shopping with me tomorrow, out in the world where anything could happen to him. He was facing each fear as best he could, which, in my opinion, was as brave as could be.

Coach Sylvester interrupted my musings with a snort. "Well, well, well, someone's suddenly become the big man on campus. Good for you, Frankenteen. You've figured out that the big bad wolf is mostly huff and puff. You're right, I can't hurt you. I won't kill you; I won't even lay a hand on you. I could still devastate you emotionally with out even trying, but why bother? You've fallen beneath my notice."

Finn nodded. "Then we agree."

I genuinely don't think he was trying to be sassy. Knowing Finn, he was probably pleased to be beneath Coach Sylvester's notice, just like he was pleased to be beneath the notice of most every other adult.

But it wasn't going to sound that way to her. What she was going to hear was that Finn considered her beneath his own notice, and if there was one thing that Sue Sylvester couldn't stand, it was not being noticed. "Really? Well, I'll just have to make sure that I keep on your sights, now won't I? Now fly little bird, fly away. Just take care that you don't fly right into any windshields."

I could have told her that that threat was going to fly right over Finn's head and, oh Prada, I had just continued on with the stupid bird metaphor. Someone just put me out of my misery. Sure enough, Finn just shrugged. "Ok."

Now was probably the time to get Finn out of there. I stepped forward and into Finn's line of sight. "Finn? Come on, Cowboy, we're leaving."

Sue had already turned away, as if to reinforce that only she could end a conversation and nothing he said from here on out was of even the slightest importance. I held out a hand, and Finn took it, giving me that smile that only raised one corner of his mouth.

"By the way, Lady-Face, don't think I didn't see you standing there. I'm sure your brother could have used your back-up a few minutes ago. Or is that not how it is in your family? Lord, the decay of our good moral values."

I jolted at the sound of her voice, and my suddenly clammy hand squeezed Finn's so tightly that he gave little yelp and glared at me. I dropped my voice so only he could hear me. "Sorry." Then I raised it to reply to Coach Sylvester. "There's nothing wrong my family! It's a great family! A good enough family that I was taught that interrupting someone else's conversation was rude, at any rate. Besides, from where I was standing, it looked like Fin was holding his own." My voice was doing that breathy squeak thing, and I wished I could make it stronger. Even Finn had been able to stand up for himself, why couldn't I do it?

She spun and stormed back over her eyes snapping at me. I flinched back a little, causing Finn to drop my hand and put his arm around my shoulders instead. I pressed back and he pulled me close, his chin dropping on top of my head. There was no mistaking the possessiveness of the gesture, which meant my only hope was that Coach Sylvester mistook it for brotherly possessiveness, rather then what it actually was.

She didn't. I could tell by the sudden, feral, glint in her eyes. "Oh, my, what is this? Just what _have_ the two of you been up to all summer? Why Frankenteen, are _you _the reason my little flier can't show up for Cheerio's practice 7 days a week? Or at all? Has he been doing his push-ups elsewhere? In your bed, perhaps?"

Finn didn't make a sound, which would have led me to believe that he didn't understand what she meant if I couldn't feel his heart suddenly start to pound against my back. He knew what she was implying, and the thought frightened him. But on the outside, he looked as disconnected and puzzled as ever.

He might not be the brightest crayon in the box, but Finn isn't as stupid as he seems, either. A lot of the time he plays dumb just to be left alone, like a possum curling into a ball. Eventually people assume he's too thick to get it at all, and stop asking.

It wasn't much of a defense, but it did work for Finn. His teachers passed him less because he could do the work, and more because he was likeable and not a discipline problem. Carole was still doing his laundry and making his bed for him, despite the fact that he was more then capable of both tasks. Even Joseph and Lily had mistaken his steady silence and blank expression for complete submission, when it was just the mark of someone who was too tired to keep fighting, but knew enough to bide his time.

The dumb face worked this time, too. Coach Sylvester threw up her hands. "And this is why kids in India are killing us with their test scores. Because every moron in this country is required to go to school and waste our teachers valuable time and resources. The world needs ditch diggers, too."

"Finn's not stupid! He passed all of his exams today, which is better then half of the Cheerios did!" Since Finn had gone quiet, I stepped up to defend him.

"Oh, yes, I'm sure he's become quite proficient at studying the male anatomy. Isn't that right, Pork Chop?" Finn sucked in a quick breath behind me, the small shudder betraying how badly her words had made him want to cry.

To her credit, I think Coach Sylvester realized she had pushed it just a bit too far. Her eyes softened a bit when she looked over Finn, and I knew in that heartbeat that she understood exactly what he had gone through. "But then again, there might be hope for you yet. After all, you managed to make it home, when I wouldn't have thought you could make it around the school without having to stop and ask for directions."

We were at an impasse now, neither side being willing to back down. Finn was still, one arm still holding my body possessively against his. Sue stood watching, a dark look in her eyes. I stared at her, unable to make myself look away.

In the end, it was Carole who broke the staring contest. "Boys? Where are you?"

"Here, Mom!" For as tough as he had been, Finn was clearly delighted to have this escape.

She came and sussed the situation in an instant, gathering both Finn and I to her. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Carole Hudson, the boy's mother."

"Really." Coach Sylvester's tone didn't suggest she was particularly impressed, which was a bad move on her part. Since she herself was entirely devoid of maternal (or even human) feelings, she had no frame of reference for what a mother would go through to protect her cubs, or even a cub that was hers by default rather then biology. I wasn't aware that Kurt here had a mother."

Carole's eyes narrowed. Here was someone who she could actually fight against. Not two people who were in jail and thus safe from her wrath, not the police who had done everything but find Finn for her, not even Puck, who had put Finn in harms way, even though he hadn't meant to and had ended up paying the ultimate price. The fact that Coach Sylvester had height, power, and sheer meanness on her side meant absolutely nothing. "A lot of things have changed." Her tone was acid.

"So I see. Well, it's nice to…how should I put this?" She rested a finger on her chin as she fake thought. "Oh, I know. It's nice to keep it all in the family, isn't it? I love to see a little good old fashioned closeness between two brothers. Sharing secrets, giggling together under the covers. It's all very charming. Lower middle class meets Brokeback Mountain."

"Oh _I_ see." Carole's voice was exaggeratedly bright. "You're implying that my boys are sexual partners. Because, really? Is that the best you can come up with? That one or both of them might be gay? Are you really that unenlightened?"

Her jaw dropped. My jaw dropped. From the sudden pressure on top of my head, I thought that Finn's might have as well. Had she really just stood up to the evil Sylvester breast? Carole, perhaps sensing that her victory might be short lived, grabbed my by my shoulder and Finn by his and pushed us forward. "You two, to the car, right this second."

We both followed numbly, allowing her to pull us down the hall. Once we were in the car, she turned to look at us in the rearview mirror. "I don't want either one of you to thing that I've forgotten your eavesdropping, or that you'll escape being punished for it."

With Dad, this was the part where I smoothly talked my way out of trouble. I opened my mouth to try, but Finn beat me to it. He rested one hand over mine and pressed his lips to my ear. "Don't. The more you fight, the madder she gets and the worse it ends up being."

The soft rush of air over my ears was doing all kinds of good things for me, but I forced that thought down so I could whisper back. "Fine, but you're taking the brunt of the punishment. She's _your_ mother."

He grinned. "I know, isn't she great?"

I leaned back into the seat and made myself look as cute as possible. Slightly dropped head, big blue eyes, folded hands. I had Disney written all over me. Surely Carole couldn't punish someone so sweet and innocent?

"Kurt, don't even try it. You're in trouble and that isn't going to get you out."

Damn.


	33. Chapter 33

_**Family quarrels have a total bitterness unmatched by others. Yet it sometimes happens that they also have a kind of tang, a pleasantness beneath the unpleasantness, based on the tacit understanding that this is not for keeps; that any limb you climb out on will still be there later for you to climb back. ~Mignon McLaughlin, The Neurotic's Notebook, 1960**_

Finn and I's punishment started out with Carole banishing us to the basement while she figured out what to do. No, scratch that. First she relieved us of any laptops, iPods, televisions, and beauty products. We had nothing to do but sit on our beds and stare at each other. I flopped back against the pillow. "This is completely unfair."

"She's only getting started, Dude." Finn climbed up next to me and laid down, yawning tiredly. "You probably aren't going to be seeing that laptop for a long time."

He was right. By the time the punishment was over, she informed us that she was keeping the confiscated items, and we were both banned from the television, family computer, and, much to Finn's horror, the snack cabinet. Two days, starting right now.

My jaw dropped. She wasn't allowed to punish me, was she? Maybe she could get away with punishing Finn, but the only one who could punish me was Dad, and he wasn't here. Then I made the error of voicing that thought.

Carole smiled at me, but it wasn't her usual 'you're such a good boy and I'm proud of you' smile. This was more of a 'Oh, mister, you just made a huge mistake' smile. "That's where you're wrong, Kurt. I've already spoken to your father, and he thinks that this is a perfectly appropriate punishment. But since you want to argue and fight with me, you can consider yourself grounded for the next two days as well."

This wasn't how things were supposed to work! Dad threatened, and Dad laid down punishments, but he also forgot about them 10 minutes later. In the event that he did remember, I could usually talk him into greatly reducing my punishment, if not outright canceling it. If I had to, I could even use the trick where my eyes welled up, just slightly, which never failed to melt him. "But…I'm supposed to go shopping with Mercedes tomorrow. We already had plans."

She was completely unmoved. "Cancel them. But we can always add on additional days if you want to fight about it."

"No, ma'am" Fine, if that was the ways she wanted it. I would just appeal to the Supreme Court of Dad when he came home. Surely he wasn't going to back her up on this. "I'll call and cancel."

"Thank you." She lightly touched my shoulder, and I felt briefly bad for going behind her back. But it wasn't like I had done anything _that_ bad. A little eavesdropping wasn't like I had killed someone. Carole was just too strict.

Finn didn't seem too concerned with her strictness but, then, he had lived with it for 17 years now. He just had no idea what a normal family looked like.

_Do you? You eavesdropped, and you were punished. Then you talked back and got an additional punishment. I don't quite see where she did anything wrong or abnormal. But complain to your father, I'm sure it will help._

That voice could just shut up! Of course it was going to help. Dad and I were a team, just the two of us. Finn and Carole couldn't change that, could they?

"You wanna do something?" Finn tugged lightly on my shirt.

I made myself smile at him, not that that was a particularly difficult task. "Like what? In case you haven't noticed, she took everything."

He squinted, like I was suddenly dumber then he was. "We could make out."

The fact that he said it like that, that he actually desired it, instead of knowing that it was something he should do to make me happy, made my heart thump. "Why Finn Hudson, what a wonderful idea."

"I know, right?" Now he was giving me his patented huge grin, and I had to laugh at his enthusiasm. "Sometimes I'm super smart."

"Sometimes you are." I held out an arm and let him come to me. My entire being thrilled when he didn't hesitate at all before climbing happily into my arms.

Unfortunately, my lips hadn't even met his before Carole was calling back down the stairs. "Kurt! Your father is on the phone!" 

Finn gave a frustrated groan, flopping backwards on the bed. "Good job, Mom. Total cock block."

The words surprised me, though Finn didn't seem to be aware of them. Whether he realized it or not, he was thinking about sex, and had a desire to have it one day.

_ Or he doesn't think about where phrases come from. _

Or that. "Hold your horses, Cowboy. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Ok." He rolled onto his back and pulled out a sports magazine from under the pillow. "Hurry."

There was no reason for me to do so. Finn's enthusiasm for kissing or touching tended to wane quickly, and this was going to be another day of me getting nothing. Besides, I had to tell Dad that Carole was treating me unfairly, so I could call Mercedes and tell her that our trip was back on.

Dad didn't sound very happy when I greeted him. "What's the problem here, Kurt? Because I have things to do other then call home and argue with everyone."

This wasn't getting off to a good start. "Carole grounded me."

"Why?" There was something in his voice that suggested he wanted to laugh, but knew how offended I would be.

"Because she's mean. She took all of my electronics away, and Finn's too, for two entire days. Then she grounded me on top of it, but not Finn. We did the exact same thing, but I was punished more. She's favoring him."

He shuffled some papers. "Really? If I ask to speak to Carole, is she going to tell me the exact same thing?" 

Of course not. "She might have a slightly different version of events. I was just trying to explain to her that maybe punishments were something that we should discuss as a family, just like we talked about in therapy. She got crabby."

Dad sighed. "So, unless I miss my mark here, you basically told Carole that she wasn't the boss of you, and she would find that out when your Daddy came home. And that was when she grounded you for two days?"

When he put it like that, it really did sound like my fault. "Well…."

"To be clear, you're being grounded for talking back to her, not for eavesdropping or whatever foolish thing you and Finn got into trouble for in the first place. Finn isn't being punished because he knew when to keep his mouth shut. I don't exactly see the favoring."

Hot tears burned in the backs of my eyes. Suddenly me and Dad had become Dad and Carole. I wasn't needed any more. "I…" I couldn't' get anything else out. This wasn't fair, but the words to tell him that just wouldn't come.

"When Carole and I are both home, the two of us will decide on punishments together. When just one of us is there, the adult present will make the decision themselves, without any input from you or Finn. The pair of you are the children; she and I are the grown-ups. Carole and I discussed this earlier, and, for the record, I am 100% in agreement with her decision to ground you. Now, is there anything else you need?"

"No. I'll let you go, because you and Carole decided I could no longer use the phone." I hung up with a slam. Why did this suck so much!

Carole was in the living room, but she wisely didn't say anything as I stormed past her. What was left for her to say? She had already ruined my night, and tomorrow, and my next two days. Bitch.

_Takes one to know one._

Much to my surprise, Finn was still sprawled out on the bed, looking perfectly happy and somewhat seductive. "So, are we going to make out?"

I didn't particularly feel like making out, not even with Finn, but I wasn't foolish enough to lose this opportunity. "Of course we are."

He threw the magazine to the side and opened his arms. "Well?"

My tension eased as he wrapped his arms around me, kissing my lips and down my neck. Say what you will about Finn and his flaws, but the man knows how to kiss. His fingers tightened and released on my shoulders, tangling in the back of my shirt. Suddenly I was _very_ interested in making out.

Even now, though, in the heat of the moment, there was a part of me that had to remain aware. To be careful of where my body was, and his, and not let the lower halves touch. I was already hard, and Finn was….well, I guessed I didn't know what Finn was. Would it be worse if he was hard, or if he wasn't?

Judging by his other responses, he was certainly interested. Finn was whining into my mouth, licking gently at my lips. He always asked like this, even though I would never turn him down. I opened my mouth slightly and let him do whatever he wanted to me.

_Oh, what a hardship. Poor, poor Kurt has to make out with the boy of his dreams. The world should pity you._

While I was distracted by my thoughts, Finn slid his around the back of my neck, pulling me down on top of him. In that one second, we were both able to feel absolutely everything. Finn jumped and pulled back slightly, his eyes wide. I rolled off of him and thrust a pillow over my crotch. This was bad; this was very, very bad.

_At least you got your question answered about whether or not he was hard. My interpretation would be very. _

Her interpretation didn't mean a whole lot. An erection in a 17 year old boy didn't mean much except he wasn't dead. Even Joseph had been able to get him hard. My voice was a creaky whisper. "Finn, I…."

"S'ok." He was as flustered as I was. "I mean…..Like, I knew it was there, Dude, it's just that….Uh…."

I took pity on him. "It's one thing to know it and another thing to touch it?"

"Yeah. Sorry." I noticed that he wasn't pushing me away, and actually seemed to be relaxing.

I reached for him, lightly stroking the fine hairs at the back of his neck. "Don't be. If you're uncomfortable, you need to tell me right away."

"I don't want you to be mad at me. And, anyway, I wasn't. Well, maybe a little, but I was more surprised." Then he gave me that lopsided grin. "I'm not scared now, either."

That was something I fully intended to take advantage of, but I wanted to address something else he had said first. I knew that Joseph had refused to let Finn say 'no' and I had to make him understand that it would be different with me. "I won't ever be mad at you for saying you want to go slower or even stop, do you understand me Finnegan?"

His full name snapped him to attention, just like I had suspected it would. "I know. I know you wouldn't hurt me. You're good."

Despite everything, Finn's faith in people was still strong. I would be trusted, because he thought I was good. Period. I wouldn't turn on him, I wouldn't hurt him, I wouldn't be anything but good to him, because I told him I would be. I rubbed his jawline. "Thank you, Finn."

"Whatever." He gave a lazy stretch and moved his body closer to mine. "Can we do it again?"

Well, it would be rude to deny him. "I suppose I could be convinced to-Finn!." As soon as I confirmed wanting to make out, Finn tackled me back to the bed, rolling me on to my side. "You are such a Neanderthal!"

"I can live with that." He tickled me, making sure to aim for my ribs. "Now let's get back to the making out."

Simple minded creature. I noticed that he wasn't trying to get me on top of him any more, but we were still taking steps forward. So this day wasn't total loss after all.

Finn wasn't quite as enthusiastic as he had been before, but he wasn't as jittery as I had expected he would be either. He was gentle and sweet, kissing not only my lips but down my jaw and neck. He even nuzzled at my collarbone and who could have possibly thought that it could feel so good?

_Does it not disturb you that Finn Hudson knows your body and how to please it better then you do, and it's only been a few weeks since you got together? You need to get to know yourself, and I do mean that in the biblical sense._

With the way Finn was nibbling on my earlobe, I was going to need to sneak off and get to know myself in the bathroom soon, or risk something inappropriate happening in my dry clean only pants. "Finn." My voice was a half whisper-half moan, which he only took as encouragement to run his tongue down my neck. My heart was pounding in my ears, and everything was starting to look a little bright.

Salvation came again in the form off Finn's mother, which served to cool both of our jets significantly. Fortunately, she didn't come downstairs, which might have resulted in neither one of us ever being able to look her in the face again. "Boys? I need one of you to come up here and help me fold some laundry, please."

Finn pulled away from me, his eyes black and his lips swollen. "Coming, Mom! Let me pee first!"

With the way he was adjusting himself, I didn't think peeing was what he needed the bathroom for. He leaned over and gave me one final kiss, much more gentle then he had been before. "I'll be back." It was a lousy Terminator imitation, but it did make me smile. That was Finn, my goofy, unsure, messy, Terminator-quoting, boyfriend.

Finn finally came back downstairs, two baskets of laundry balanced in his arms. Since he's not capable of neatly putting his own things away, I took them both while he wandered over to play with Leo and Mikey. He was still determined that he was going to teach his rat to play fetch with him, despite his lack of success so far. Still, I had to admire his determination.

I also had to admire the way he took care of them. I had figured that his interest in the rats, or at least in taking care of them, would last a week, tops, and then I would be the one feeding and watering and ensuring that our basement didn't reek of rat crap.

But, so far at least, Finn was holding to his promise of being the one to care for both rats. They always had food and water, and he cleaned the cage religiously. Plus, it was kind of cute to see them rolling round the basement in their little ball. I listened to him with half an ear. "Leo! Come here, boy, come here." He whistled a few times for good measure. "Come on. Kurt? Why isn't he coming?"

"Maybe because he's a rat and not a dog, Cowboy." I hid my grin by keeping my body turned to the closet. Usually Finn doesn't mind a good natured joke, but sometimes he gets sensitive.

"But the internet said that you can train them." Disappointment dripped off of every syllable.

"Didn't the internet also tell you that it was ok to eat expired food, as long as it didn't smell bad? Do you remember how that turned out?" Because none of the rest of us could forget it. Carole had nearly had to hospitalize him due to him being so dehydrated, and he hadn't been able to perform properly in Glee for almost three weeks after.

He gave a slow, thoughtful, nod. "Oh, yeah. He comes sometimes, though. You know, when I have a banana chip."

I had a few suspicions that Finn liked those banana chips at least as well as the rats did, but I hadn't been able to catch him actually eating one. "Then you're making progress."

He gave me a quick grin and went back to working patiently. It wasn't as much fun as making out had been, but it was….comfortable. Finn kept glancing over, as if to make sure I hadn't disappeared on him, but he didn't speak to me further. There was a level of trust in me that I don't think he ever had with Rachel or Quinn.

Or maybe I was just deluding myself, but I had never seen Finn as relaxed in their presence as he was now in mine. We remained in a companionable quiet for almost three hours, until Dad's truck pulled up and Carole was calling us to dinner. Finn had long since given up on trying to get the rat to come to him, and was now just laying on the floor, petting it and talking too softly for me to hear.

Usually, when dinner was mentioned, Finn bolted for the stairs with all possible speed, if he even waited long enough for Carole to call. Most of the time he was hanging around and getting in her way as soon as the food was no longer completely raw. How that boy has not completely destroyed his digestive system by now is a mystery that may never be solved.

Today, though, he was kind of slow. He put Leo back in his cage and wandered into our bathroom to wash his hands. It was worrisome, and it made me wonder if the stress of today had taken more out of him then I had thought.

I wanted to ask him if he was alright, but something held me back. Instead I waited for him to come out of the bathroom, giving him the critical once-over. His eyes looked circled and over bright, and his head drooped. My heart dropped. .If Finn couldn't handle a trip to an empty school, how was he going to handle coming to Glee with us, much less performing at our Sectionals?

_He'll handle it one step at a time, just like everything else. I want you to back up just 2 ½ months, and remember what it was like when Finn first came back. He couldn't talk, he was barely responsive to you, and he made himself physically ill when he was drug out of the house. In just 10 weeks, he's talking, he's being social when people come over, and he's even willing to go shopping with you. Furthermore, he's willing to try a relationship with you. What more do you want?_

If you looked at it like that, I guessed that Finn was doing pretty well. Still, I worried.

Dinner was a subdued affair. I was still upset with both Carole and Dad over my punishment, and I wasn't afraid to sulk and let them know it. In her unending quest to piss me off, she had made pork chops for dinner, when she knew full well that I didn't eat pork products. Naturally, Dad and Finn were in ecstasy. The fact that Carole had made sure I had plenty of side dishes and salad, as well as a sweet potato, since I didn't like the starchiness of the regular type didn't do much to improve my mood.

The worst part was, Finn was barely eating the disgusting, fatty, concoction. Usually he could be trusted to gulp down two or three of them, as well as enormous helpings of the side dishes, but today he just picked at a single chop. His salad was untouched, which wasn't terribly unusual, but he hadn't eaten his potatoes either. Carole noticed that he wasn't eating. "Finn? Is something wrong with your food?" At his disaffected shrug, she tried again. "Do you feel alright?"

"Yeah." Now that we were all looking at him, he forced down a few bites. "I'm just not very hungry."

In other words, the apocalypse was here. Carole's eyes narrowed, but she backed off. "Alright, then. I'll put some aside for later."

"Thanks." He sounded completely unenthusiastic about it, but he offered her a game smile. It didn't fool me, and I could tell that she wasn't fooled either.

Dad tried to step in. "So, Finn, have you given any more thought to coming down to the garage and learning the ropes? I could use another man out on the floor."

Finn nodded slowly. "Yeah, that would be good. Do I get paid?" The grin on his face might have passed muster for someone else, but after his earlier listlessness, it just looked forced to me.

Dad chuckled, and I knew that Finn had managed to fool him. "Of course. It will be nice to have someone for a few hours during the day."

"Yeah." Finn wasn't even making the effort to sound enthusiastic now. "Maybe on Thursday."

For as long as I had known him, Finn had been convinced that Thursdays were lucky. He was capable of presenting a rather compelling case, citing everything from the day he made quarterback to the Glee club winning Sectionals. Not to mention a plethora of unrelated items, which included things like the day he got his X-box, or the two for one deal you could get at the local burrito place. His crowning point was that the Wrights had dropped him off on a Thursday, and how much more proof did I need that that was the luckiest day of the week?

I hadn't thought about it at the time, but it was also on a Thursday that Finn kissed me for the first time, out on our back steps. Maybe there was something to his little theory after all.

"Sure, sure, whenever you like." Dad was clearly thrilled at their moment of bonding.

Finn really likes making people happy, and his smile lost some of its tense edge, softening into something more gentle. "Thursday's good. May I be excused?"

Carole nodded. "No television, and no computer. You're still being punished."

"Ok." He took his plate over to the sink and went back downstairs, his tread sounding ominously heavy to those of us still upstairs.

Carole said nothing to me, but Dad felt compelled to add his two cents in. "You too, Kurt."

"I know. I still claim that my punishment was unjustified and uneccacarilly harsh, but, seeing as the two of you are the adults in this farce of a relationship, I'll abide by your law. Am I allowed to go downstairs as well, or should I stay up here and serve the pair of you?"

Dad shot me a _look_, the kind that had me quickly trying to back down. He didn't give me that look often, but he meant business when he did. Before I could stammer out an apology, he pointed at the basement door. "Your punishment just jumped to four days instead of two and, unless you want it to be a week, you better make yourself scarce."

This was one of those situations where I was best off just obeying him. "Yes, sir."

I stormed down the basement stairs, angry and humiliated for the second time that day. Finn was on his bed, staring quietly at the ceiling. He didn't even look up at me as I marched by him.

By now, most of the household was used to my tantrums.

Under normal circumstances, I would have called Mercedes, or at least gotten revenge by going online and doing some serious damage to Dad's credit card. But neither one of those options were open to me now, which did nothing to improve my mood.

With a heavy sigh, I picked up one of my fashion magazines and climbed up next to Finn. He wrapped his arm around me, but still didn't say anything. So I did what I do best: I talked for both of us. "I hate our parents."

He nodded. "Sometimes I hate them, too. But they aren't really _our _parents. I mean, there's _my_ Mom and _your_ Dad. There's nothing that's both of ours, always mine or yours." His voice was soft and raspy.

"That's not true. This bedroom is both of ours." I wondered where this was coming from. Finn's brain is a strange and murky place, and I could try for years without understanding it.

"No, it's not. It's _your_ bedroom. It was yours before I moved in and it'll be yours again after your Dad builds the addition. You're just being nice by letting me stay here."

When Finn was in one of these types of moods, it was better not to argue with him or try to jolly him out of it. For someone who used to be so easily fooled, Finn's developed the ability to spot bullshit from a thousand yards away. "Well, as the owner of the room, then, I'm willing to let you stay here as long as you like. If you don't want to sleep in the addition, there's nothing wrong with that. I love your company, and I love being able to come over and lay next to you like this."

"I like being with you, too." It didn't escape my notice that he didn't use the word 'love' but that wasn't something to become overly upset about either. After all, I had had feelings for Finn for well over a year, which was plenty of time for like to become love. I still wasn't exactly sure when his feelings for me had developed, but it had certainly been after he came back. "I want to stay here."

"Then you can." I moved to kiss him on the lips, but he turned away at the last second. "What's wrong?" My voice was calm and gentle, not as hurt as I secretly felt. Of course Finn didn't have to kiss me if he didn't want to, we had just discussed that, but I wanted to know what was going on.

"I don't think it's a good idea to kiss on the mouth right now." His arm across my body didn't move, which I took as a good sign.

"Why?" I was starting to get a suspicion, but I wanted him to confirm it.

He shrugged. "I don't feel very good tonight."

Suspicion confirmed. I reached over and pressed my palm to his forehead. He wasn't burning up, but he was way warmer then usual. "Why didn't you tell your mother you didn't feel well when she asked?"

Another shrug, this time accompanied by him looking down and away. In silent Finn-speak (which was differentiated from regular Finn-speak by a lack of grunting. It was also generally more clear then when he was actually talking) he was telling me that he wasn't sure about what he was telling me, but he wanted me to push until he told me the truth.

"Finn?" I tickled his side and he smiled a little bit.

"Then your Dad would hear it." The words came out in a rush. Then he was looking expectantly at me, like he had just explained everything.

"And that would be bad because…" I drew the words out, trying to figure out what he wanted to tell me.

"I don't want him to know. If he knows there's something wrong with me, he might be mad at me."

Dad would never be angry with Finn for having something wrong with him, even if whatever happened had been Finn's own fault. "Why would he be mad?"

"I don't know. I never really thought about it."

Finn could avoid a lot of problems by slowing down and thinking about things, but now didn't seem to be the time to bring it up. "Would you like me to get her now? I think it would be better if she looked at you first."

"Ok."

_ Kurt, you do know what this means, right?_

It meant that Finn wasn't feeling well. It also meant that he still didn't trust Dad. And maybe that I wasn't the one with the biggest problems in the house.

_Nope. But you'll find out what it means soon enough._

I pondered that mystery while I came back upstairs. The television was on in the den, so I headed there. Both Dad and Carole were on the couch and- Oh God! Please God, if you exist even the tiniest bit, erase what I just saw! No man needed to see his father necking on some woman like a teenager.

My breath sucked in so quickly it whistled as my hands flew to my mouth. Screw this; I could get Finn an aspirin all by myself. He wasn't _that_ sick.

That indrawn breath, as small as it had been, was enough to alert Dad and make his head snap up. "Kurt! I thought you were downstairs. Carole and I were…uh…"

I held up a hand. "Let's just never speak of it again. Ever. Carole, Finn's not feeling well. I think he has a fever."

She was off of Dad (Thank you, Prada, for all the gifts you have bestowed upon me) in a heartbeat. "Thank you, Kurt, I'll take care of it."

Dad started to say something to me, but then changed his mind. I nodded. "I'm going to get some water."

I dallied in the kitchen, putting ice and lemon in my water, washing a few dishes, anything so as to not have to either face Dad or go back downstairs. In the end, though, there was nothing for me to do but return to the den, making mental notes to avoid sitting on that couch until it could be steam cleaned. Or burned. Finn would probably enjoy the idea of lighting the couch on fire.

Luckily, Carole came back upstairs before Dad and I had to attempt any sort of awkward conversation. Dad looked over at her. "Do we need to take him to the hospital? I can pull the car around."

She laughed. "Burt, he has a sore throat and a fever of 101. He's not dying, and he'll be just fine waiting until tomorrow to see his regular doctor. There's a nasty strep epidemic going around, and he's probably breaking with that. He just needs to rest tonight."

Since I apparently wasn't needed, and I certainly didn't want to be around when they started violating our coach again, I turned back to the basement. Carole glanced over. "Kurt? You should be fine to sleep down there with Finn tonight, even if he's not feeling well, but I wouldn't eat or drink anything after him. We don't want you to get sick, too."

"Ok." We each had our own cup downstairs, and it wasn't like Finn had an appetite anyway. "Goodnight to both of you."

I was downstairs again before I realized what that voice had been trying to tell me. I didn't have to worry about eating or drinking after Finn, because I had already shared all of our germs by kissing him. Crap.

_Told ya so._


	34. Chapter 34

_**'Ohana means family – and family means that no one gets left behind, and no one is ever forgotten. ~Chris Sanders and Dean DeBlois, Lilo & Stitch  
**_

Sure enough, by three the next morning, I was feeling as ill as Finn. My throat burned and all of my muscles were so cramped that they felt like they had locked. In other words, I was in agony.

I had started out lying with Finn, rubbing his back and wiping his face and neck with a cool cloth. He had been appreciative and snuggled as close as possible. Since I had already known I was going to be ill, there was no point in me trying to keep away from him.

Now, with both of us being feverish, we couldn't stand to be in the same bed. Touching Finn was either like being frozen or burned alive, sometimes both within a minute of each other. I tossed Kitty in Finn's direction. "It's your turn, Cowboy."

He moaned restlessly, but struggled to his feet and into the bathroom. I closed my eyes as water ran, trying not to cry. I was in a hot phase, and I kicked the covers away. Finn came back with a cool washcloth, which he laid over my face. We had been alternating who got up to get the water and rewet the clothes, since they were quickly becoming warm and useless against our overheated bodies. This was it, I was dying. He patted my shoulder a few times and vanished back to the bathroom.

Finn returned from the bathroom and sat on the edge of my bed. "I brought you some pills." Two aspirin, damp from being in his hand, were dropped on my chest.

Had it been four hours already? I kept falling asleep and waking up, not sure how long I had been out, or even if I had slept at all. Morning, and the resulting doctor's visit, couldn't come quickly enough.

_Maybe Carole won't take you. After all, she has her own son to worry about. If I were you, I would plan on getting up really early and finding your own way to the doctors._

That voice was wrong. Of course Carole didn't love me as much as she loved Finn, but she would take me to the doctor if I needed it, just like Dad would take Finn. Right? Had to be.

"This fucking sucks." Finn was whining softly as he thrashed around on the bed, trying to find a position that didn't hurt. As much as I hated whining in general, I understood exactly where he was coming from. My blurry eyes found the clock. 6:52 in the morning. I knew doctors, and the earliest possible time we could be seen was 9. There was no way I was going to make it.

"I'm sorry I got you sick." It was a miserable whisper. "I didn't mean to."

Finn always thought that everything was his fault. I would like to blame Rachel for that, or Quinn, or even the Wrights, but Finn had been like this for as long as I had known him. Either something had happened to him when he was younger, or it was just his personality.

Normally, I would have tried to comfort him, but I was feeling too badly to even try. For once, Finn was just going to have to struggle through on his own.

I slept for a while, and, when I woke up, Finn's bed was empty. I pushed up to look at the bathroom, but he wasn't there either. "Finn?"

No answer. Where was he?

With a supreme force of will, I staggered to my feet and up the stairs. Dad was coming through the kitchen, already dressed for work. He took one look at me and physically recoiled. "Carole? Come here and look at Kurt! I think he's sick." He was getting that panicky look he always got when there was something wrong with me and he had no idea what to do about it. On average, I saw that look 15 times a month, more during the school year.

She called from the living room. "Burt, you knew he was sick, Finn said so. Give me a minute."

I wanted some water, but the thought of asking for it, and the resultant pain it would cause me made me shudder. Carole popped into the room, pressing a cool, efficient hand against my forehead. "Oh, honey. What else hurts?"

I leaned into her touch, grateful for something against my hot skin. "My throat, and my head, and everything else. But mostly my throat."

"Same as Finn, then. I called in a favor and Finn's pediatrician, who is also one of my coworkers, is going to squeeze both of you in at 9. Come on lay down with Finn until then. Have you been taking anything for the fever?"

I was so surprised by her take charge tone that I numbly let her lead me into the living room, where Finn was set up on one of our two couches. Dad would have dithered and flapped his hands and either ended up taking me to the ER or leaving me to find my own way to the doctors. Then again, this was a woman who was used to running triage in a bustling ER. Two feverish teenagers wasn't much trouble.

By the time five minutes has passed, I was on the other couch with a blanket, cup of crushed ice, and the television remote, snatched neatly from Finn's hand. He gave a soft mumble of protest, but it seemed to be more a matter of form then anything else. Carole stroked his cheek once and he put his head back down with a pitiful sigh.

I couldn't tell if the sudden rolling of my stomach was illness or jut plain jealousy.

"Both of you try and get some rest. Finn, be nice and let Kurt watch whatever he wants. You've had the TV for an hour already."

So Finn had been up here for a while, then. The two couches were set at right angles, to facilitate the flow of energy in the room, so my head rested just a few inches from Finn's. "You could have woken me up if you were coming upstairs."

Only his eyes moved when he looked in my direction. "You were asleep." His voice was heavy and flat.

"Hence the 'woken me up' part of my statement." Illness always brought out the worst of my bitchiness. Why did Finn have to be so difficult?

"She's _my_ mother." The emphasis was very slight, but it was there. "Mine. Not yours. She takes care of _me_."

If he had thrown a tantrum, or even raised his voice, I might have brushed it off. But he was making a serious claim on Carole, telling me that I was not longer welcome. That there was mine, and there was his, and some things would never, maybe could never, be equally shared.

_That's fair. After all, this is _Kurt's_ house, and _Kurt's_ room, and _Kurt's_ father, and _Kurt's_ car. Look at it from Finn's point of view. He has no home, no space of his own, no father, no best friend. Everything that was his, including his rights to his own body, is gone now. Is it that bad that he just wants it to be _Finn's_ Mom and no one else's?_

Maybe it was fair. But I didn't feel like dealing in fair right now. I wanted Carole to make a fuss over me, too, and she was proving that she was willing to do that. "I share Dad with you; you can share your mother with me."

He blinked darkly at me. "Keep him." Then he turned on his side, his body away from me. To him, this conversation was over.

"Finn?" He didn't look over, but his shoulder did twitch, so I knew he was listening to me. "I still love you."

The silence stretched on for so long that I didn't think he was going to reply at all. The he huffed. "You, too."

Not huge, but a start. I flipped around until I found a rerun of The Price is Right. "How about this?"

He didn't even look. "Ok. Sorry I was a jerk. I can share Mom, I promise."

'Can' didn't mean 'will' or 'want to', but I did appreciate the sentiment behind it. "Thank you, Finn."

He reached over the arm of his couch, his hand wavering uncertainly until I took it. His skin was hot and dry against mine, but I held on. No matter what, we would have each other.

Carole saw our joined hands when she came to tell us to get dressed 45 minutes later, but said nothing about it. "Come on boys, Alexander won't wait forever. Get dressed and let's go."

I had to lean on Finn as we went down the stairs, but he didn't complain. Any pressure on my skin made me twitch, so I slid into a loose pair of jeans. Yeah, I know, I can't believe I have any loose fitting jeans either. These must be left over from the beginning of last year, when I didn't have the same...let's call them _standards_, of dress that I used to.

_Does it bother you that clothing you wore over two years ago still fits? You're going to be short your entire life_.

At this point, I didn't even care. I slipped into a clean pajama top, which was the loosest top I owned. It was plain red, and no one was going to be able to tell what it actually was. Finn, the huge cretin, just pulled a hoodie on over his pajamas. I didn't have the strength to argue with him, though. No one was going to notice what he was wearing.

Every moment may be an opportunity for fashion, but even I was willing to make an exception for hospitals.

Luckily, Carole's been a nurse for a very long time, and she knows all of the doctors in the hospital, so we were able to bypass the ER and get right to an exam room. Good thing, because Finn was tense and wary, his hands clenched tightly together in his lap.

There were three small chairs in the room, along with the paper covered exam table. Carole sat in the middle and Finn and I each took a side. He laid his head on her shoulder and, feeling guilty even as I did so, I pressed against her other side. Maybe Finn and I would never be equal when it came to her love, but couldn't I at least have something? She kissed the top of my head. "It'll be alright."

"Hey, Carole, Finn. And who do we have here?" An older man entered the room, clipboard in hand. So this must be Alexander.

"Hey, Alex. This is Kurt, my boyfriend's son, and, of course, you know Finn. Thank you so much for squeezing the boys in. Kurt, Finn, this is Dr. Holmes." She pointed in the direction of the exam table. Finn pressed back against his chair, which meant I was the one who had to get up and do it. Just like always.

I was aware of the three pairs of eyes that were locked on me as I slipped my shirt off for the exam. Yeah, because having my boyfriend, my boyfriend's mother and some strange man staring at my scrawny pale chest wasn't embarrassing at _all_. A thermometer was popped into my mouth while the doctor listened to my heart. "Everything sounds good here."

He made a quick check of my eyes and ears, pronouncing both normal, but my temperature at nearly 101. "Open your mouth, please." When he shined his light down my throat, he gave a quick whistle. "Ouch. Looks like you have nasty infection in there."

It felt like I did, too. Dr. Holmes turned back to the sink and pulled out a large swab. "I'm going to do a quick strep test here; just one minute and it will be over."

True to his word, he swabbed the back of my throat quickly, but I gagged anyway. It hurt and I was just ready to go home and die now.

_Self pity is a bad look for you. Plus, you might want to do something about that sensitive gag reflex. Finn isn't going to want to be with a boy who can't suck cock._

Right at the moment, I didn't care who Finn wanted to be with. Nor did I have even the slightest idea how I would work on my gag reflex, anyway. The doctor signaled me off the table. "The quick test should take about an hour to run. Finn, you're up."

I slid off the table as Finn climbed up, stripping his shirt off so he could go through the same procedure I had. His fever was higher then mine, but otherwise everything was identical. Clear eyes, clear ears, strong heart, incredibly inflamed throat.

At least it was all the same until the doctor pulled out his giant swab. Finn took one look at it and clamped his mouth shut. Dr. Holmes pulled back. "Finn, it's just a quick swab. You saw me do Kurt, and it only takes a second and doesn't hurt."

No dice. Finn just stared at him, lips pressed firmly together. Carole nodded at him. "Finn? Let him do the test, honey. You've had strep tests before."

He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. His bare chest was heaving, and I swore I could see the skin move as his heart pounded out of control. It was right then that it suddenly clicked home for me. It wasn't crankiness, and it wasn't stubbornness. Finn was afraid to have a rigid object, no matter how small, crammed down this throat. It reminded him too much of having Joseph's dick shoved in there. I tugged on Carole's shoulder and, once I had her attention, whispered my idea in her ear.

"Alex? Can I see you in the hall for a moment?" Her lips were doing that trembling thing that told me how badly she wanted to cry.

As soon as they were out the door, Finn yanked his shirt and jacket back on, shivering violently. "Don't let him make me. Please, he can't."

I wobbled over to the table and sat next to him. "I won't."

I wasn't quite sure how I was going to accomplish that, but there was no doubt in my mind that I could do it. Finn squeezed me in a quick hug, one I gratefully returned. "You can pick all the TV stuff, and you can have some of Mom, too."

It hurt him to say that, I could tell, so I gave him a quick squeeze to make up for it. "Just every now and then."

"I don't want to be an asshole about it, even though I kind of am. I just want to have her first." He dropped his head back and groaned. "I don't know, I'm just being dumb, I guess."

No, he was being normal. I could all too clearly remember the tantrums I had thrown when Dad paid attention to Finn in the past, most of which were worse then Finn's little snit earlier. Even now, I would be lying if I didn't say there was a mean part of me that was glad that Finn didn't want anything to do with Dad. That's not saying that I like seeing him afraid of Dad, because I don't, but it's nice not to worry that Dad's replacing me with the son he wanted in the first place.

Before I could tell him that, though, the door opened again and Carole and Dr. Holmes were back. "Finn, what we're going to do for right now is just run Kurt's test. Since you have identical symptoms, and considering the fact that there's an absolute epidemic of strep throat going around, we're going to forgo the test for you right now."

"Does that mean I don't have to do it?" It surprised me to hear him ask, since Finn talking in front of other people, especially men, is usually kind of hit or miss. Yeah, this was his doctor, but it counted for something, right?

"That's exactly what it means. Alright, you three, we should have the results in 20 minutes or so. Carole, you have the afternoon shift tomorrow, right? No one can take control of the Friday night ER like you do."

Oh, Prada in Fake Heaven, this man was flirting with her! Did he not know that she was practically a married woman? Married to my father, by the way, who was the greatest man on earth! As badly as I felt, I attempted to lunge to my feet and tell this man off. Unfortunately, all I did was make myself dizzy and have to sit back down. I was forced to settle for a steely glare.

As soon as he left the room, Finn turned around, his face a mask of horror. "Mom, that man was hitting on you!"

She gave his shoulder an affectionate rub. "Of course he was. How do you boys think I got an appointment for the two of you with only and hour and a half of notice? He's been hitting on me for years. Its fine, he's not serious."

"You're just going to let him do that?" Finn sounded shocked. "But you're dating Burt! You're almost married to him."

So Finn recognized the impending nuptials as well as I did, but, at least as far as I knew, he hadn't raised a fuss about them. Interesting.

"Honey, he knows all about it. He actually thinks it's quite funny that Alex has been chasing me for nearly 15 years and I would never give him the time of day, but all he had to do was ask once. And anyway, I'm not almost married to Burt. Why would you think that?"

"Because we're living in his house, and you're sleeping in his bed, and you always tell Kurt and I to act like good brothers and share-" I had to wince at the 'good brothers' comment, even though I was the one who insisted on not telling Carole the truth in the first place. Even though I knew that she already knew it, Finn didn't. "-and whenever you talk about the future, you always talk about him and Kurt, too, like we're really a family. That's being practically married. You should make him give you a ring, though. Get Kurt to sing you the song about it."

I could kill Britney for sharing that stupid 'Single Ladies' video with the entire glee club. Not only was everyone still laughing about it, but Finn actually had it bookmarked on YouTube. Why he felt it necessary to do so was a mystery, I never thought to ask him until he was either asleep or busy with something else.

Carole raised an eyebrow at me. "Maybe when Kurt feels better. And Finn, I'm not about to make Burt do anything. Marriage is an enormous step and we'll take it when it comes to that. I didn't think you even wanted us to get married."

He shrugged, which was the default Finn gesture when he didn't feel like continuing the conversation. Both his mother and I kept staring though, so he was eventually forced to keep going. "You might as well. If we're already making a family, then a ring is just a…uh….formal thing."

"Formality." Carole and I corrected him at the same time.

"Yeah, that. And I never said I didn't want you to get married. You just never asked." He rested his head on her shoulder, staring up at her with utter trust. "How many minutes has it been?"

She checked her phone. "Three. We have another 17 minutes."

One thing about Finn that I alternately find charming and crazy making is that he has no concept of time whatsoever. 10 minutes to him is the same as an hour, and two days from now might as well be next year. There are times when I despair of his ability to properly read a clock.

He sighed deeply. "Can I get an ice cream cone or something, then? My throat hurts."

"That's a good idea. Why don't you and Kurt stay here while I run and get you both something? Kurt? What can I get you, honey?"

Nothing. Anything. "Vanilla, I guess."

"Ok. I'll be back in a few minutes." She grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

The cafeteria was on the other side of the hospital, but I had spent enough time here during my mother's illness to know that '20 minutes or so' meant 40, minimum. Besides, this gave me an opportunity to ask Finn a few things. Another one of Finn's downfalls lately is that every conversation you have with him leads to a dozen questions, none of which I ever seem to get answered. But this time, I was going to aim for at least two of them.

"Hey, Finn? Finn!" Speaking harshly hurt my throat, but it was the only way to tear his attention off of the breast exam pamphlet he had dug up from somewhere and was now admiring with single-minded intensity.

Guiltily, he put it in the trash (though not without a last, longing look at it. Sicko.). "What?"

"Are you really alright with the thought of our parents getting married? Or were you just paying lip service to your mother?"

He leaned his head back and looked at the ceiling. While he thought, I reached out and took his hand. The skin was fever hot, his fingers tight around mine. "I don't trust your Dad. But he's never been mean to me. Sometimes he does really cool things for me, like getting me Leo and Mikey, and I think I could trust him a little. But then I think that Joseph did cool stuff for me, too, and he was still a pervert and a killer." He looked at my face and hurriedly backed up. "Not that I think your Dad is either one! It's just that….you never know."

No, you didn't. As much as it hurt me to know that someone thought Dad might be capable of inflicting the sort of injuries on someone that the Wrights had on Finn, I understood where Finn was coming from. "So, you were lying to her."

"No. Your Dad could do those things, but I don't think he will. And even though I don't trust him, you do. Mom does, too. And I trust both of you. That's how I know that it'll be ok, and that he's a good guy after all. And he treats Mom really great, like she deserves. Plus, like I told you, they're already almost married. We just missed the wedding, and weddings are pretty cool. Sometimes there's an open bar, and no one ever watches to see who's getting booze."

That was both disturbing and sweet. But it was nice to know that Finn trusted Carole and I to take care of him, and was at least able to logically understand that Dad was someone to be trusted, even if his emotions hadn't caught up with his mind.

I kind of wanted to pursue this line of inquiry, but I didn't want to lose the chance to ask my second question. "One more thing. Why do you have my 'Single Ladies' video bookmarked on YouTube?"

His smile was just big enough to cause his dimple to appear. "Well, at first because it was really, really awesome. I mean, you sounded great, and you looked really cool." He made outlined a body with his hands. "You were super sparkly."

It was kind of nice to see that someone else thought that it was a great video. Rachel had pronounced it a good first try, but really only B- material. Santana had mumbled a few unkind euphemisms for 'gay' under her breath, including one or two I had to look up because I had never heard them before, but I noticed that she hadn't been able to tear her eyes off Britany. Mr. Shue had loved it, but he loved everything we did, especially when we tried something on our own, without any of his input.

At the time, Finn had given me a big thumbs up and a huge grin. "Sweet, Dude!" I remembered his words exactly, because they were some of the few words he had spoken directly to me (they were numbers 27 and 28, and, yes, I know exactly how creepy that is, which is why he'll never find that little factoid out), and it had given me hope for something more. After all, I knew I looked good in that unitard.

It didn't end up happening that way, but Finn had thought highly enough of the performance to bookmark it, which meant that he was at least thinking of me, right?

Finn ran gentle fingers down my neck. "Now I just use it for inspiration when I'm jerking off."

The world stopped, right along with my heart. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." He pressed his cheek against the top of my head. "I use it to put some extra money in my spank bank, I wax the weasel when watching it, I rub one out when-"

"Ok, Finn, I get it!" If I didn't stop him right now, I was pretty sure he could continue in this vein for at least an hour. Maybe far longer then that, considering how often I had heard the other boys in glee doing the exact same things, while the girls and I pretended to be disgusted but were really listening intently.

Then what he had said sunk all the way in. Did it suddenly get hot in here, or was my fever just spiking? Finn thought about me while he touched himself? Me?

_You mean his boyfriend? Yeah, you. Why is this so shocking? _

Let me reiterate. Finn Hudson, the boy I had been wanting since I first understood that my penis was for more then just peeing out of, was telling me that he masturbated while looking at me in a skin tight leotard. The same Finn Hudson who had done very little to indicate he had a sex drive since he came back, at least when he was awake. How could this not be shocking?

_Good point. But you might want to say something, because he looks really worried right now. _

He tugged on my sleeve. "Kurt? Are you mad at me? Is using her video like that really, really, wrong? Because I can stop if that's all weird."

Since we were both already sick, I kissed him on the side of the mouth. "It's not weird. But you have the real thing right here, and you can see it whenever you want."

His smile was a tiny bit worried, but not as tense as it had been even a week ago. "I'll do that."

We didn't have much to say after that, which meant it was fortunate that Carole returned with two small cups of ice cream. "Did he make it back, yet?"

Finn shook his head and reached for the treat. Normally, I would take a bite or two to be polite, then quietly pawn the rest of it off on the nearest hungry person (usually Finn), but the cold soothed the burn in my throat. I gulped as much as I could hold, grateful for the numbness that replaced the pain.

It took another 15 minutes for Dr. Holmes to come back, a pad clutched in one hand. "The quick test says that Kurt has strep throat, which means Finn probably does as well. I'm going to put both boys on a 10 day course of antibiotics, which should kick it right out. Plenty of fluids and rest and the pair of you should be feeling at least a little better by tomorrow."

"Thank you Alex, and thank you again for seeing them on such short notice. Boys?" Carole picked up our cups and pulled us to our feet.

We both mumbled our 'thank yous' even though Finns was accompanied by a rather dirty look. Interesting that, as much as he feared Dad, he didn't like the thought of some other man moving in on his mother.

To my surprise, Finn insisted on accompanying her into the pharmacy, which meant that I had to go as well. He took a detour to the candy aisle and picked up a pack of Sour Patch Kids. How could he even think about candy at a time like this?

He held out the package. "Do you want something?"

"How can you even swallow those?"

He rolled his eyes. "They aren't for right now. Every time I take a pill, I get a piece of candy.. Mom and I always do it."

"How very Mary Poppins of you." It sounded kind of rude, but I was actually a little jealous. Finn and Carole had all of these little traditions, special mother and son time, and I was the outsider.

_You and your father have traditions, too, you know. And you aren't an outsider. I distinctly recall Finn just offering to include you by you getting your own treats. _

With that thought, I snatched a pack of M&M's off the rack. "These."

"Cool." He took both packages and headed back to the pharmacy, where Carole was just picking up our prescriptions. She looked over at him. "One thing, Finnegan, not two."

"M&M's are for Kurt." He rubbed at his eyes tiredly and she didn't pursue the matter further. A few short card swipes later we were on our way. I leaned against Finn, feeling the fever radiating off of his skin. Despite the fact that my body must have felt as hot to him as his did to me, he hummed softly and pushed closer.

Once we arrived home, Carole tucked us both into our beds, despite my (admittedly feeble) protests that I was almost an adult and didn't need help. Finn rolled over and went to sleep immediately, his breathing going slow.

I couldn't sleep, though. Every way I turned, something was being crushed, or my sinuses felt like they were draining into my already inflamed throat, or everything just plain hurt. I tried sitting up, I tried lying down, I tried my side, my back, my stomach. Nothing was working. Frustrated, I opened my eyes and starred at the wall. I didn't have the physical or mental energy to do anything but lay her and mope.

A hand touched my back, making me jump. When I rolled over, Carole was looking at me. "Here you go." My laptop was pushed into my arms without further comment.

I stared at it like it had suddenly started doing the hula dance. "But I thought I was being punished." Wait, why did I remind her of that? I must be sicker then I thought.

"True. But I understand what it's like to be sick and just want to lie in front of the television or computer for a while. So I'm revoking your punishment for right now. When you feel better, we'll see about taking things away again."

Now I felt kind of bad for acting like such a jerk yesterday. Carole was treating me every bit as well as she was treating Finn, and, now that I had had a chance to cool off, I could see that she wasn't being that unfair. "Thank you."

"Just keep the volume low so you don't bother Finn. He's a very light sleeper when he doesn't feel well." She passed me my cell phone as well. "If you need anything, call or send me a text. I don't want you straining your throat by yelling."

"Ok." There was that shy feeling again, the one I kept getting around Carole for no apparent reason. "Can I have a Popsicle? A purple one?"

She adjusted my blanket. "Of course."

I held the phone and laptop, but didn't turn either one on. Why was it that every time I thought I had Carole figured out, she pulled a fast one on me and put me right back at square one?

_Carole isn't changing in the slightest. You know what your problem is? You made a judgment on who she within 10 minutes of meeting her. She was nothing but the woman you might have to put up with in your quest to get Finn Hudson moved into your life. Done. And, ever since, you've been trying to force her into that first impression, rather then admitting you were wrong. You would be a lot happier if you were a little less rigid and judgmental._

That voice was such a raving hypocrite! What was she (and I always thought of that voice as a female. A mysterious, bitchy, unreliable, female.) doing but being judgmental and rigid right now?

_Well, yeah. After all, I'm you. We have the exact same personality flaws, and the same strengths. It's just that I'm the only one who cares enough, and is brave enough, to call you on your bullshit. I'm doing it out of love for both of us._

Carole came back downstairs with a purple Popsicle in a bowl. "Here you go, Sweetie."

"Thank you." I took the treat and popped it into my mouth. The ice felt wonderful on my swollen throat.

She went over to Finn for a quick check, smoothing his hair back and causing another grumble of jealousy in my stomach. Why did Finn get to keep his Mom and I didn't get to keep mine?

_Why does anything happen? You have a father and Finn doesn't. Rachel doesn't have a mother. Mercedes has both, and so does Tina. Brittany's father lives in Europe and hasn't seen her since she was four. There's a million ways to be a family, and you've already experienced three. Mom and dad, just Dad, and now Dad and Stepmom. Time will tell which one is the best._

"So, can we agree that I'm not the biggest bitch in the entire universe?" The words made me jump, my jaw dropping open. I'm sure that I looked incredibly guilty, but she had caught me completely by surprise. "I, uh, I didn't…" 

"You did. Kurt, if there's one thing I recognize; it's the 'she's a bitch' face. I see it from Finn about three times a week." She sat down on the edge of the bed. "I try to treat both of you fairly, you know."

If I was being honest with myself, I did know that, but I couldn't bring myself to tell her so. Instead, I kept the Popsicle in my mouth and my eyes focused directly on her.

"It's not an easy thing to do, though. Nothing about this family got off to a very good start, I know that, and we just can't catch our balance. I want to be fair, but you and Finn are so different. Different likes, different needs, different everything. Your father thinks you need less then Finn does, which might be true. Sometimes I just think you need things more quietly then Finn does. But I do want you to understand that I'm not punishing you because I like doing it or because I hate you. I'm punishing you, and Finn, too, for being disrespectful to both me and Mr. Shuester. It's not personal. Do you understand that?"

Damn, the woman knew how to lay on the guilt. I nodded and looked down. "I'm sorry. We just wanted to know what you two thought about Finn. You never tell me anything, and I want to know. You keep saying that we're a family now and we have to be honest and trust each other, but you aren't honest with us."

That, of course, was the crux of the matter. I didn't sneak because I enjoyed doing it (ok, I did enjoy it a little. It fulfilled some deep down James Bond/Jason Bourne/Michael Samuelle fantasies that I had been having for years. But that was _not_ the point.). I snuck because I had to know what was happening at all times. If I didn't know, that was surrendering to chaos, and I couldn't handle any more chaos in my life.

Carole sighed. "Did it ever occur to you to just ask?" Her voice wasn't nasty or sarcastic, just curious. When she made that face, I could see exactly where Finn got it from.

No, it had never occurred to me that I could just ask, even though it seemed obvious now. "I didn't know I could."

_You know, this may exactly how Finn felt when he didn't think he could tell you that he had feelings for you. Things that look easy to an outsider aren't so much in the heat of the moment._

Point to the voice, but I had Carole to focus on right now. "Would you be honest if I did ask?"

"Of course I would. Family is honest, and family sticks together. Isn't that why we're in therapy three times a week?"

It was about to be four times a week. Once as a family, once for Finn alone, once for Carole alone, and, soon, once for me alone. Only Dad was spared. I chewed through the last of my Popsicle, just so I had something to do with my mouth. My extended silence would have worked on Dad, but Carole's a bit of a tougher nut to crack. She waited for months for Finn to talk; she could outwait me by a few minutes. Another few seconds dragged by, and I knew I was beaten. "I guess. Next time I'll ask and I won't talk back to you later."

I said it partially because I knew that it was exactly what she wanted to hear, but mostly because I meant it. I liked her, and I wanted her to like me back. The problem was, I wasn't exactly sure how to do that. I had never worried about whether people liked me or not before last school year. They never did, and I wasn't about to waste my time on a bunch of unwashed baboons. Even if I was desperately lonely most of the time.

But now I felt like I had at least some idea of how to make friends with someone my own age. I wasn't great at it, but I did have a few friends, and that was enough for me.

Only Carole was different. She was an adult, a mother, and I was out of my depth. Moreover, she was Finn's mother, and he had made it pretty clear that he wasn't interested in sharing her. My own Mom had just come as part of the package of being born. I hadn't had to do anything to win her over except be there.

_You worry too damn much. I don't recall Carole asking you to do anything but be there, either. All you need to do is stick around and quit acting like a jerk, and she'll love you. Finn's opinion doesn't matter. She's the mother and the boss, and she will decide who to love or not love._

She stood up. "I'm going to let you get some rest. I'm going to be right upstairs if you need me, and your father should be home before I go to work, so you boys won't be left alone."

I probably should have thanked her again, but I just ducked my head and stared at the comforter. "Try and get some sleep, honey."

That was the best idea I'd heard all day.


	35. Chapter 35

If we knew each other's secrets, what comforts we should find.  
**John Churton Collins**

By the time I woke up, later that afternoon, I was feeling a lot better. Not 100%, but the antibiotics had kicked in and at least I could both move and swallow again. The fact that Finn was snuggled up against me didn't hurt matters, either.

He was very quiet, so I rolled over to see if he was awake or not. He was, and he gave me a saucy little grin. "Good morning."

There was no point in telling him that it was way beyond morning and almost evening. Instead I gave him a quick, closed-mouth kiss, mindful of what was probably horrendous morning breath. "How long have you been awake?"

"Dunno. I was going to go and watch TV, but then I thought I would come over and watch you instead."

That was both creepy and somehow charming. "How very Edward Cullen of you."

I didn't think that he would get the reference, but he chuckled. "Yeah, but at least I don't whine like he does."

"That you don't." I kissed him again. "But why would you want to spend your time staring at me?"

"Because you're hot." He gave me a look that suggested we had been over this enough times that he shouldn't have to repeat himself again.

As far as I was concerned, he should be repeating it as often as possible, because I never got tired of hearing it. "Hold that thought, ok? I'm disgusting, and I need to at least brush my teeth."

_Yeah, the fact that his breath smells like toothpaste didn't escape my notice, either. I just wasn't going to say anything_.

"Ok." Finn must have been feeling better as well, because he was playing happily with a corner of the comforter. My boyfriend was a little bit weird, but at least he loved me.

My good mood held until I made it into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. My fever had broken sometime while I was sleeping, and my hair was somehow both matted with sweat and sticking straight up. I had dark circles under my eyes, which were a defeated grey color, and my skin was ever paler then usual. There were red creases running down the side of my face from where my head had been resting on the pillow. I looked like the Bride of Frankenstein.

But, by some miracle, Finn still thought I was hot. I've long since given up on trying to make myself see what he does, but this was a stretch, even for him. I ran a comb through my hair, and brushed my teeth as quickly as I could. Now that I felt halfway human again, I returned to my bed. "How are you feeling?" 

"Better." He shrugged a little, rolling his shoulders. "I'm not very hungry or anything, but I'm better."

Something was wrong. When you know him as well as I do, Finn is very easy to read. He can mask his face, press his lips into a perfectly straight line, and lie with a surpising amount of expertise, but his eyes give him away every time. When he's happy, they have the most beautiful gold and green flecks that appear, making them shine and sparkle. When he had a problem, they were flat and muddy brown. "You don't sound better. Tell me what's worrying you."

He looked through me, exactly like he had when I came home and found him sitting on the porch. Like I was there, but not there at the same time. I waited patiently, giving him the time to sort out his feelings. "I don't want you to go to school and leave me here alone."

Nice try. I didn't doubt that Finn felt that way, and that he wished I could stay with him all the time, but the start of school was still over a week away. Finn's a very 'in the moment' sort of guy. He wouldn't start worrying about me going back to school until a day or two before the beginning of the year. No, this was something much more imminant.

I took a minute to lightly scratch his back. "Cowboy, I wish it could just be you and me all the time, too, but I have to. Plus, you're looking forward to Glee again, aren't you?"

"Yeah." His face lit up, and now I was seeing the colors. "I have all these awesome ideas, and Mr. Shue and I are working on a special thing just for you. But it's kind of a secret, so I can't tell you any more."

"See? Between working on Glee stuff and the tutor they'll be sending, you'll have plenty of things to do." Even though this wasn't his big worry, I still felt compelled to assuage it.

"I know. Your Dad said that I could come down to the garage and help him sometimes, too. You know, if I don't blow anything up the first time he lets me try. I need a job and no one else is going to hire me now." His voice got higher pitched near the end, and I knew that we were getting closer to the real problem.

"You'll do fine at the garage. Dad's a good teacher, and you pick things like this up very quickly."

"I'm not worried about that. Well, maybe a little. I don't want a car to fall on me or anything. But I think I can do the work." He was sounding a little more confident now, which was exactly what I _didn't_ want. If I didn't get to the root of his worries now, I would lose my chance.

So I tried to gently nudge him back to the orginal problem. "So we're ok with school?" At his nod, I kept going. "Is there something else?"

"Yeah. Can we go upstairs?" He was already getting up, so I guessed that he was going whether I followed or not.

Since I was still curious, I followed him. My muscles protested a little, but the stretch and burn felt good. The living room was empty, but I could see Dad's garage clothes in front of the washer and hear the shower upstairs. Carole must have gone to work already.

Finn threw himself on the living room couch and turned on the television. His channel surfing seemed aimless, and I realized that I probably wasn't going to get my answers after all.

It was still nice to fold myself against Finn's side and snuggle close, though. He wrapped an arm around me while he flipped through the channels and I closed my eyes contentedly. Suddnely Finn tensed. "There!"

But I was already hearing the words. "-formally charged with Kidnapping, Capital Murder, Rape, Sodomy, Child Molestation, and Unlawful Imprisonment, related to the murder and kidnapping of two local teenagers, Noah Puckerman and Finn Hudson, both studens of William McKinley High and both 16.. Noah was shot on March 13 of this year. Finn was kidnapped, though he recovered unharmed four months later. Further detail at 10."

"It's been on for the past 5 hours. That's it, everybody knows." Finn's voice was very quiet. "All the kids at school, everyone at your Dad's garage, the people at he college I want to go to. _Everyone_."

He had known this was coming, of course. We had discussed it in therapy one day, a rather unproductive day in which Finn had insisted that he understood what was going to happen, and why it was necessary, but he hadn't wanted to discuss it further or think about it at all out of the therapists office.

Looking at his pale, stricken face, I wondered how anyone could claim that Finn had been recovered unharmed. I rubbed my thumb right under his ear, something that always calmed him. "It will be alright."

"I know." His eyes fluttered shut as I kept rubbing. "It's bad, but it'll be ok."

Maybe he had been doing more mental processing and thinking about it then I had given him credit for. "Of course it will. What happened wasn't your fault, and people will understand that. And if they try and start shit with you, I'll kill them."

Finn tickled my side. "Thanks, Kurt."

I suspected that I was being thanked more for the spirit behind my offer then I was for any ability to follow through with it. These revelations were going to make life at McKinley a living hell for Finn, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

But now wasn't the time to worry about it. There would be so much time to worry in the future that it seemed foolish to do it now. "Want to watch a movie? I'll even let you pick."

Finn's choices tended to be a little too boyish for my tastes, but they often came with the advantage of lots of shirtless men, so I usually considered them a small price to pay to keep Finn happy.

Only Finn wasn't moving. He opened his eyes and stared at me, looking deeply. "They wanted us both to go to the police station today."

"You and me?" Even though that was exactly what he had just said, I was having trouble understanding the words. Finn and I weren't the criminals, why would they want us to go down there?

He nodded. "They want to take our statements again. They already got the official ones, I think, but thye need to talk to us again.

I wasn't sure if I could do it again. I couldn't take the looks they gave me when I told them about the night Finn disappeared. I know that they're supposed to be neuatral about it, but they never are. Some of them looked at me like they knew that I had been flirting with Finn, like I had pushed him to run straight into his kidnappers arms. Others were judging the fact that I hadn't called the police, or at least Dad and Carole, the minute Finn didn't come home. Some of them were nice, but I just never felt comfortable with them.

_ You can do it. Finn is taking his cues off of you, and you have to be do it for him. If you stay strong, he will to. _

I cleared my throat. "When did they call?" 

"A few hours ago. You were still sleeping, and I was upstairs getting a pickle. They called and wanted us both to come in, but Mom told them no because we we're sick."

For some reason my brain was choosing to focus on the pickle part of that statement, instead of the more important part about the police. "You were getting a pickle?" 

"Yeah. Pickles make your throat feel better." He sounded far away and confused, so I decided not to push it.

"I'll take your word for it. Did they say anything else?" You had to handle Finn very delicately. If you got overexcited and pushed him too hard, he shut down and you couldn't get anything out of him, period. A calm tone of voice and no eye contact worked wonders.

"Mom didn't say anything. But she was on the phone for a while, so probably." He started channel surfing again, only to stop on another network that was discussing the upcoming trial. For someone who spent most of his time in denial about what had happened, Finn was certainly focused on it now.

"Finn?" My voice was cautious, and he looked over curiously. "Are…are you going to be ok?"

"Do you mean am I going to freak out and stop talking again?" His arm tightened around me and he kissed the top of my head.

"Well I was trying to put it in much more gentle terms, but that is the general idea of what I was asking." Trust Finn to cut straight to the heart of the matter.

"Don't worry, Dude, I'm not. That won't ever happen again."

I wanted to believe him so badly, but I just couldn't. The memory of his blank eyes and perfect silence was still too fresh. "If you ever feel that bad and overwhelmed again, I need you to tell me."

"I won't. I have you now, and Mom, and your Dad. This time I know that I'm not going to die. Besides, I realized something while I was in therapy."

He was playing with me now, but it was a game that I was more then willing to go along with. I leaned over and tickled his side. "And what was it that you realized?"

"I can't freak out again, period. It's my word against theirs, and if I lose it, they're going to get off." His voice was calm and stronger then I had ever heard it before. "I have to. I owe Puck one, and if I freak out and they make me look crazy, no one is going to believe that they killed him like they did. They might even think _I _did it."

They had already tried to blame Finn, albeit indirectly. Neither one of them had actually come out and said that Finn had murdered his best friend and then hooked up with them as he was skipping town

If I were the defense lawyer, it was the tack I would have taken. No, Finn didn't have access to a gun, but the murder weapon hadn't been found at the Wrights house either. There was was evidence that Finn had been in their home, but no one was disputing that fact. The closet that Finn claimed they had kept him had been filled with cleaning supplies and various household debris. No sign of the isolation chamber he claimed it had been.

Then there was the question of motive. Why would the Wright's drive cross country to murder and kidnap a pair of teenagers? There were millions of boys exactly like Finn and Puck in between here and New Mexico. It seemed silly for them to come so far with no gaurentee of a pay off. What if Puck had been able to convince Finn not to stop the car? What if that Lily had stood on that road for hours, but with no one who fit their criteria stopping? What if Joseph had missed his shot with Puck, or Lily hadn't been able to taser Finn out? The possibilities for something to go wrong seemed endless.

_What makes you think that that didn't happen? That they didn't miss a shot in Illinois, or in Kansas, or twice in Texas? The reason no one could find Finn was that that crime was totally random. Fixating on one area or one teenager opened them up to someone remembering them or their car. The way it happened, they could try in every state, even every few towns. If the circumstances weren't perfect, they could just let the boy go and wait for the next one. Like you said, there are millions of teenagers between here and New Mexico._

That was true, but would anyone else see it like that? After all, when it came to motive, didn't Finn have the best one of all? Puck had slept with Finn's girlfriend, gotten her pregnant, and then tried to pass the baby off as Finn's. It was one of the oldest motives in the book. Not to mention he had assaulted Puck once before, when the truth came out.

Of course, I knew that Finn was nothing but a big teddy bear lug. Anyone who spent any time with him knew that, while he could be tempermental, he was incapable of murder. Him hitting Puck that first time was still talked about around school, just because it was so out of character for him.

Again, though, knowing that required knowing Finn. Finn was only 17, but he looked older. At 6'3 and 240lbs, Finn looked intimidating. If you didn't know him, it would be shockingly easy to picture him with a gun in his hand. Still I felt compelled to offer false comfort. "No one will believe that you would do that."

"They might. I know that they're already saying that I did it."

I don't know why I think that Finn is stupid. He's certainly dense, but, when he's properly motivated, he's capable of a focus that can outshine even mine. Case in point? I don't know anyone else who can blow through a brand new video game in a weekend, without using any of the cheat codes. He's not incompetent at schoolwork, he's just uninterested.

But this was the most important thing he had ever done, and would probably ever do in his life. Even though he hadn't given any outward signs that he was conflicted, Finn must have been thinking about this for a long time. He looked at me, puzzled by my silence. "Kurt? Didn't you know that? That they were going to blame me?"

"I did. I just didn't know that you did." I was floundering, unsure of what to say. Sometimes Finn was fragile and sometimes he was strong, and I honestly couldn't tell which mood he might be in at any given moment.

He looked hurt. "Well, yeah. I'm not stupid. I know how a trial works. The defendant tells his side of the story, and the prosecuter tells their side of the story. Usually, both people are kind of telling the truth, but not the whole truth, so the judge has to decide who's telling more truth, right?"

It took me nearly a full minute to detangle the confused tenses and wording. He was right, though. There's an old saying, that there are three sides to every story. My side, your side, and the truth. I believed that Finn's version of what happened was mostly true. As far as the major points were concerned, I was 100% sure that he was telling the truth. The murder, the kidnapping, the rapes, I didn't doubt any of those for even a second.

But I do sometimes suspect that there are things that Finn isn't exactly lying about, but that he is holding back. I could still remember the first time he told me the entire story, that night that he decided to speak to me after 2 months of silence. There had been a point where he had refused to tell me what happened. The point hadn't been the murder. It hadn't been when he was tasered. It hadn't even been the rape. I couldn't imagine what it had been, but it had to be worse then any of those things.

"Only, this time, I know that I'm the one telling the truth. So they have to make something up, because if they tell the truth it's over for them. They have to blame the murder on someone else, and there's no one to blame but me. It's process of elimination. Or something."

There wasn't much I could say to that. I couldn't tell him that no one would believe them, because I knew that there was a huge chance that someone would. It only took one person out of twelve to send back a not guilty verdict. Finn was right, this was all riding on how believable he was on the stand.

I squeezed him tighter. "I believe you. Even if no one else does, I always will."

"They'll believe me. They have to, I'm the one telling the truth." He was trying to sound confident and failing miserably. Then he gave himself a visible shake. "Anyway, that's why I know I can't freak out again. The defense is going to be watching everything I do, so I have to do it right. It's the last thing I can do for Puck."

"Do you miss him?" This was dangerous territory. We weren't really supposed to bring Puck up. Finn needed to process what had happened himself first, and pushing him too hard could backfire on us. But since he had brought it up first, I felt like it might be safe.

"Yes." He stroked my hair with one hand. Normally, this would have been grounds for the immeadiate amputation of the offending limb, but I let him do it. "I know that he was an asshole. Sometimes he was even an asshole to me. He didn't really do 'nice'. But he was nice to me, most of the time. And when he was an asshole, I don't think he really wanted to be. He just had to."

"Why? Why couldn't he be nice all the time?" I kept my voice questioning and not at all bitchy. Finn sees the world differently then everyone else and, while it was sometimes odd, I usually did end up learning a few new things.

His hand stilled. "I can't tell you that. It's a secret"

Trust Finn to think that keeping someones's secrets meant even after they were dead. "You can tell me anything."

"Not this. I wouldn't share your secrets and I won't share his either." He was agitated now, so I hurried to soothe him. "Ok, you don't have to."

"I miss doing stuff with him. Some of it was just stupid shit, but it was stupid shit that we did together. Like when we went bowling. Puck sucked at bowling. I mean _sucked_. But we would do it anyway, because it was fun. It was just us, and we didn't have to pretend to be anyone else."

I understood what he was saying. There was you you, your real personality, and then there was the you that everyone else saw. The one that learned to keep quiet when you wanted to speak up, or that joined a team full of people you disliked to play a sport you despise. It was a person you didn't necessarily like, but one who you had to put up with in order to survive a public high school.

Suddenly Finn grinned. "Plus, when he was cleaning pools, I always had somewhere to swim during the summer. I usually had to do it alone, since he was busy screwing the owner, but we would go back when the people were at work."

He trailed off, the remote dangling forgotten from his fingers. "So, yeah. I miss him."

I couldn't exactly claim that I missed Puck myself. Yeah, he'd been nicer to me in the six months before he died, but I could still remember every shove, every dumpster dive, every insult, and every other little way that he had made my life miserable for my entire freshman year and part of my sophomore one.

That didn't mean I wanted him to die, though. There was also the small fact that I would have rather have put up with even worse abuse then have to see that sad look in Finn's eyes every morning. And Puck could be quite charming when the mood struck him. Too bad the mood didn't strike him unless he was trying to get into some girls pants. There was even a brief period when I thought he might try to get in _my_ pants, just to prove that he could, and still walk away without a hint of homosexuality clinging to him.

_Admit it, that was kind of thrilling._

Maybe a little. It was nice to think that I was desirable to someone, even if it was for no other purpose then to prove a point. I wouldn't have touched him, even if he _had _asked, since he wasn't Finn, but still.

"I wish I knew how to make it better for you." It was the stupid thing that people said when they didn't know what to say. Like wishing had ever done anything for anyone.

"I know you do. Everyone does. But unless one of us learns how to turn a Delorian into a time machine, we're kind of stuck with what happened." His eyes brightened. "Do you think your Dad could show us how to do that at the garage?"

"How to do what?" Dad was out of the shower and leaning against the doorframe.

Finn jumped, just like he always did when Dad spoke directly to him. But his eyes were still hopeful when he looked up. "How to make a Delorian into a time machine?"

Dad chuckled. "Sorry. I don't think I've ever even seen a Delorian in real life, and I certainly don't know how to create a flux capacitor. I could show you how to do a fan belt replacement, though?"

"That would be kind of cool, too." Finn's voice was more then a little fake, but that had less to do with what he was saying to Dad and more to do with the fact that he was speaking to Dad at all. He was doing better in a lot of ways, and he was clearly trying very hard to be friendly, but still fell a bit short of the mark.

"Thursday, Kiddo, ok? Oh, your doctor called, and you need to reschedule today's appointment with her. Number's on the pad by the phone."

We always referred to Samantha as Finn's doctor, never his therapist. I'm not really sure why, since we've been very careful to make sure he knows that there's nothing shameful about seeking psychiatric help, and he seems to accept that pretty well. He's never indicated that it bothers him, or even that he really notices, but, so I sometimes think that it's for our comfort instead of his. This way we can all pretend that Finn spends a few hours a week getting physical therapy for a sports injury. Samantha won't let him deny what happened any more, but there's no one to tell us the same thing.

I waited for that voice to pipe up with something bitchy and rude, but it was silent. Finn bounced to his feet and ambled into the kitchen. Dad took his place on the couch and rested a hand on my forehead. "You're not as warm."

"I feel better." As always with my father, I had to fight the warring impulses to both cuddle closer and pull away. "The doctor said that Finn and I will both be ok in a day or two with the antibiotics."

"Good, good." He was obviously groping for something to say as well. Why were things always so awkward between us. "Did you get the doctor that hits on Carole?"

So she had been telling the truth when she said that Dad knew. "Yeah."

"He wasn't too pushy with her, was he? She said that he's harmless, but any man who pushes it with a woman who isn't interested is a creep and I don't trust him."

His protectiveness was kind of cute. "No, he wasn't too pushy. It was pretty harmless."

"It was disgusting." Finn sat down in his Dad's old armchair. "She's my mother, not some whore. Besides, she already has you, and he knows it."

"He might not." Dad made an attempt to defuse the situation. "Your mother might not tell everyone at her work about her personal relationships."

He snorted. "Please. Mom used to take me to work with her sometimes when I was little and she couldn't find anyone to watch me. I had to sit in the break room for her whole shift and listen to what was going on. The doctors and nurses gossip worse then Kurt and Mercedes do. He knows, he just doesn't care."

"Fair enough. But what should I do about it? Should I confront him? Because I can go down to the hospital with a tire iron if that's what you think. Or should I tell your mother not to work with him any more? Ignore it?" Dad's voice wasn't sarcastic at all. He was genuinely curious about what Finn might want. As if he and Finn were buddies who were trying to solve a problem together, instead of two people who were on opposite sides most of the time.

Finn thought about it. One of his eyebrows rose and fell as he considered his options. "None of those. You shouldn't confront him, because then you look like an insecure asshole. You shouldn't tell Mom what to do, because then you are being an insecure asshole. And you definitely shouldn't wait, because then he'll think that he can keep being creepy." He glanced over at me. "He's kind of like Mr. Ryerson's type of creepy. You know he is, but he's not quite creepy enough for you to say something about it."

I strongly suspected that Finn was rather enjoying being able to call Dad an asshole, however indirectly.

"What should I do then?" Dad had stood up and approached Finn, his movments slow and careful.

"Her break is at 4. Go over there with some flowers or balloons and a stuffed animal or some shit. Let him know that you're onto him. Kind of like marking your territory, only not because she's still my Mom and that's gross. Make a big….you know…" He moved his hand aimlessly, stuck for the word.

"Gesture?" I could have told Dad that that was the right thing to say, but I kept my mouth shut. This was perfect, with Finn and Dad working together for a larger goal, and I didn't want to mess them up.

"Yeah, gesture. Be all theatrical, right, Kurt?" He wavd his hand, calling Dad in even cloer so he could whisper to him. "Get her chocolate. Not the cheap stuff, but the really good dark stuff that she gets all pissed of when I sneak it. And purple roses if you can find them. That's her favorite color. If you can't find purple, do red. Not pink, she hates pink roses."

"I'll get on that, then. Good job, Finn, and thanks for the tips." Dad pulled away, and I noticed Finn release a very small breath of relief. "I'm going to call in the flowers now."

As son as he was gone, Finn looked over at me. "I have to go to the therapist tomrorrow instead of today. My appointments right before yours now, is that ok?"

It would have been much better if he had asked if it was alright before making the appointment, but, again, timing is not Finn's forte. "That's fine. I'll go to the coffee shop or something while I'm waiting for you."

"Good, good." He climbed out of his Dad's chair and sat next to me on the couch. "Can I ask you another favor?"

Why didn't I like the way he asked that? "You can ask, but I rerseve the right of refusal." If this was another one of his 'Kurt, I think I put another virus on the computer looking at porn but I don't want to tell our parents. Can you fix it for me?' problems, he was on his own this time.

"I need you to take me to the cemetery tomorrow. You know, the one where Puck's buried. I haven't seen his grave yet, and I want to." His hand reached out to rest on top of mine. "Please, Kurt? It's really, really important."

It wasn't the sort of request you could refuse, even though it made bile rise in the back of my throat. "Of course I can. But are you sure you wouldn't rather have your mother do it?"

"No." He didn't elaborate, and I didn't want to push things by forcing him. "If you can't do it, it's cool, though." He was trying hard to sound disinterested, but I knew that it would crush him if I refused.

"How about tomorrow before our appointments? I'm still not really feeling up to driving anywhere today." If he pushed it, I would go, because I would do anything for Finn, but he was already shaking his head. "That would be awesome, Dude. Thanks."

He wrapped one arm around me and pulled me against his body. He was making that little noise again, a half hum-half purr that I felt vibrating though my body more then I heard it. It wasn't something that he was aware of doing, and it was something I had only heard him do a handful of times since he had been back. If I had to name the noise, I would have called it 'contentment'. For this one second, Finn was just fine.

It was a lesson I should probably take the time to learn myself.


	36. Chapter 36

_**Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell. ~Edna St Vincent Millay**_

I had half expected that Finn would have forgotten the entire thing by the next morning, but, as luck would have it, he hadn't. He didn't say anything directly, but he was clingy with Carole until she went to work, and clingy with me once she was gone. "Do you want me to make French Toast?"

French toast is one of Finn's specialties, made with powdered sugar and cinnamon and some secret ingredient that he would throw us all out of the kitchen when he put it in with the egg. Normally, I'm very conscious of what I put in my body, but this was one of those things that was too delicious to matter.

There had been a brief period where I had been too freaked out to eat them, because I knew exactly where Finn had learned to make French Toast that tasted so good. Lily. The secret ingredient came from a murderer and a rapist.

But Finn was so proud of his newfound cooking abilities that it didn't feel right to refuse him just because of where those abilities had come from. Finn had learned a lot of things while he was in New Mexico, both good and bad, and I was just going to have to enjoy his new skills without worrying so much about where they came from. "I would love some French Toast. Do you still want to go to the cemetery before our appointments, or would you rather wait?"

"Today. It has to be today." Both his movements and his speech were jerky and quick, a sure sign that he was already overwrought. Wisely, I didn't push the issue any further.

"Whatever you want. I'm going to go up and choose an ensemble for my appointment." If I looked anything less then perfect, I wasn't going to be able to follow through with this appointment. If I was organized, calm, perfect on the surface, I would be the same way inside.

_I'm thinking that this therapist's appointment is long overdue. Get tested for OCD while you're in there._

Wanting to be neat and tidy was_ not_ a mental illness. It was a sign of having some pride in ones appearance. And while I was at it, I was totally going to pick Finn's outfit as well. If he was given half a chance, he would just grab the nearest pair of jeans and a t-shirt, giving no though to whether they matched or not. He would let me pick his clothing, too, though, and I liked seeing him in things that actually fit for a change.

By the time I came back downstairs, Finn had already made enough French Toast to feed the entire Glee Club. "I think you made enough, Cowboy."

"Your Dad wants some." He flipped another four pieces.

"Then definitely no more. Dad is going to have a heart attack if he doesn't start controlling his portions." I kept my voice light, but it was a real worry. All of the Hummel men died of heart problems, right back to my great-great-great grandfather. It was yet another reason I tried to eat healthy and keep myself as fit as possible.

"You worry too much, kiddo." Dad grabbed the syrup out of the fridge. "I'm healthy as a horse."

That was what they all claimed, right up until they collapsed with no warning. My mouth opened to keep arguing, but Finn beat me to the punch. "It's ok, that was the last of them."

"Good, good." Dad was nervous, which was making me nervous. What was going on around here?

Further conversation was held until we had all served ourselves and were sitting down. Dad had relaxed a little and Finn didn't seem to notice the tension at all, but I was practically vibrating. If someone didn't say something soon, I was going to start screaming.

"Finn, I think you and I need to have a man to man talk." Dad set his fork down with a muted clang, a sure sign that we were going to be here for a while.

Finn set his own fork down and stared at Dad warily. "Is this a man to man talk about sex? Because I already know about that, you don't need to tell me."

It was a logical leap for Finn. Even I couldn't imagine anything else that would require a 'man to man' talk, but I knew that this wasn't the sex talk. Even though it's never discussed between the family, Dad is aware that Finn knows all about sex, and more then most people do. Besides, Dad could never bring himself to have the talk with me, his own child, so he certainly wasn't going to be able to do it with Finn.

"No, it's not that. It's just…." He steeled himself and took a deep breath. "Finn, I would like your permission to ask your mother to marry me."

I choked on thin air. Even though I had known it was coming, the thought of Dad and Carole actually getting married still stole my breath. Why would he want to do that?

_Because he loves her. Because he's been alone since your mother died, and he's in love again. What I'm wondering is why he asked Finn of all people. There's no way he's going to give his blessing._

But Finn surprised me. Instead of telling Dad that he would allow him to marry Carole under no circumstances, he just sat back and took a long drink of his milk. "What if I say no?"

"No means no." Dad was trying to appear unaffected by the thought, but I could see the strain. "If you aren't comfortable with moving forward, we'll put the idea on hold for a little while and see how we feel about it later."

Still, Finn didn't straight out say no. "Do I have to call you 'Dad', like Kurt does?"

"No. You can keep on calling me Burt if you want to."

"What if I want to call you that?" I couldn't tell if Finn was serious or just acting like a jerk.

"If you want to call me Dad? You can. Or we can pick a different name that's just for me, like Pop or Papa or Father. Whatever makes you happiest." Dad sounded as confused as I felt.

"Do I have to decide right now? Can I think about it today while I'm doing my stuff and let you know tonight?" Finn sounded a little confused, but I could tell that he wasn't really. This was just his trick for getting Dad to shut up and leave him alone.

"Of course." Dad finished his coffee and gave Finn a quick pat on the shoulder. "Tomorrow's the big day at the garage, huh? I gave the rest of the guys the morning off, so it'll just be the three of us. I figured it would be easier for you to learn without an audience."

"Thanks." He didn't say anything else.

"Breakfast was great Finn. You're becoming a wonderful cook, which the ladies love." It was a shameless attempt to butter Finn up, one that I knew Finn saw through. Plus, it wasn't the _ladies_ that Finn was interested in any more.

_He doesn't seem particularly interested in you either. It's been weeks and the only thing you've gotten from him is a few kisses._

Finn _was_ interested. More and more he was initiating the kisses, and I sometimes caught him looking at me in an appraising way, like he wanted to move forward, but wasn't sure how to do so.

Speaking of my boyfriend, he gave Dad a weak smile and looked down shyly, fussing with his last few bites of toast. Dad pushed his chair back. "I've got to get to work. Boys I'll see you tonight."

"Bye Dad." I gulped the last bit of my milk and cut my eye at Finn. "Your clothes are waiting for you upstairs. Just jeans and a T-shirt." Usually Finn would let me dress him in whatever I wanted, as long as it was comfortable and he didn't need any help getting it on, but I had intuited that the blue T-shirt I picked was a favorite, and I wanted to do everything I could to make this as easy as possible for him.

The ride to the cemetery was very quiet. At one point, I turned the radio on, but Finn turned it back off almost immediately. "Sorry."

His hands were clenched against his thighs, fingernails biting into his palms. I stroked the back of his left one, and he uncurled it to clutch at me instead. His skin was chilled and damp with sweat. "I didn't bring anything. Aren't you supposed to bring flowers to put on someone's grave? Or, like, a picture or something? That's what they always do in the movies."

He was losing his nerve, I could tell. "I don't really see Puck as a flowers or picture sort of guy, but if you would like, we could stop and get something for him."

"No, you're right. You're always right." His smile was tight and forced.

I had visited Puck's grave more times then I cared to count. No, I don't think that there's any kind of afterlife, but the cemetery was quiet and private. Plus, Puck had been the last person we had known to be with Finn and being close to him felt almost like keeping that one tiny connection with Finn, at least at first. Then it just got depressing, but I didn't stop going.

"I'm going to say yes." The words were blurted out in typical Finn fashion, leaving me to wonder what he was talking about.

"Okaaay…." I drew the word out into a question.

"I'm going to tell your father that it's ok if he marries Mom. Is that ok with you?"

"It is, but are you sure you don't want more time to think about it?" For someone who was usually so deliberate his thought process, to put it euphemistically, he can sometimes jump to conclusions without taking in to account all of the facts.

"No, I've already thought about it since forever." He must have caught my surprised look, because he grinned at me, the first real smile I had seen all day. "I'm not dumb, Kurt. I can see the way they look at each other, and I knew that he would ask her eventually, so I thought about it and thought about it and decided that he's something I can live with forever. Mom deserves someone to take care of her."

"He'll take care of you, too. He can take care of all of us." I kept my voice light and gentle.

"I know." There was no bite to the words, but the subject was definitely closed.

The cemetery was large, but I knew where to go. Finn dawdled, wanting to look at the bigger or more decorative stones. "Look, Kurt, this one died in the 1800's!"

He was stalling for time, but that was alright. We had more then an hour before we had to be at the doctors, and we could come back later if we didn't make it to the right grave today. "This cemetery has been here since the 1700s, so you might find one that's even older."

Finn sighed and squared his shoulders. "Maybe next time. Do you know where the grave is? Because this place is kind of big."

I nodded and started walking to the far corner. In less then two minutes, there we were, looking at Puck's grave. It was a simple stone

_Noah "Puck" Puckerman_

_4/12/1994-3/19/11_

_You Are Loved_

I wasn't 100% sure what I expected to happen when Finn saw the grave. Would he cry? Rage? Faint? Have a total breakdown?

He didn't do any of those things. Instead his eyes went very soft and gentle and he knelt down in front of the grave. "Hey, Puck."

I sensed that this was a private moment, so I backed off. "Finn? I'm going to go sit over there for a while. Let me know if you need me."

He nodded without looking over. Instead he was focused on tracing each letter and number on the stone, as if he would find all the answer to the most important question in the world there. As if they would tell him how things had gone so badly.

The headstone I sat down on was one of the older ones, so hopefully no one would begrudge me the seat. Finn needed his privacy, but I didn't want to be too far away from him, in case he ended up needing me as well.

Only he didn't. He just stayed where he was, his back to me. If he spoke, it was too soft to hear, and he never shifted his position. This was something that Finn needed to do alone, and he was proving himself more then capable.

_That's what I've been trying to tell you. He's not spun glass, and he won't break the minute you put pressure on him. To do what he's done already, to survive what they did to him, he had to be strong. Don't make him weak now._

That was easier said then done. Finn _was_ strong, I wasn't trying to deny that, but he was still only 17 years old. He needed his family to rally around him and to love him, especially with what was coming ahead.

_That's not what I'm saying. Of course Finn needs his family. Even grown men need their families around them. What you're doing right now is exactly right. Don't abandon him, but don't hang on him either. Give him at least a chance to work things out on his own. _

Point to the voice. I reached into my messenger bag and pulled out my well-worn copy of Wicked. If Finn needed me, he knew how to find me.

A hand descended on my shoulder, startling me out of my thoughts and making me jump. Finn stood next to me, still quiet. His face was streaked with tears, but he wasn't crying now. He actually seemed calmer then he had been in weeks. Maybe doing this had been wearing on his mind as much as it had mine. "Are you ready to leave?"

"Yeah." His arm wrapped around me and lifted me off the stone. "I don't want to be here any more."

"Are you ok?" I knew that it was pushing, but I couldn't help it. I just had to know what was happening with him.

"I think so." He seemed as surprised as I was.

We were back in the car and halfway to the therapist's office before he gathered his thoughts enough to try speaking again. "It wasn't like I thought it would be."

I looked over at him, but didn't say anything. Speaking at this point would just derail Finn's train of thought and make him have to start all over again. Sure enough, he paused for only minute or two before he kept going. "I thought that going to the cemetery and seeing his grave and stuff would make me feel close to him, but it didn't. I wanted to talk to him, but I could have done that in the basement at home. He's not here. He's dead and seeing his grave isn't going to change that."

I could have told him that, but I hadn't. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok. Are you nervous about going to a crazy doctor? Because it's not that bad, I promise. Samantha lets me draw and we don't have to talk about anything we don't want to. It's kind of cool. Besides, I'll be right outside."

I marveled again at Finn's eternally optimistic nature. He was the only person I knew who could actually make therapy sound like fun. "You're a good boyfriend."

His lips moved slightly, forming the word 'boyfriend' again. It's kind of cute, the way he almost tastes the word every time. Like it's still unfamiliar to him, but he likes it all the same. Silly, goofy, precious, Finn.

_Traumatized, frightened, sexually confused, Finn._

That, too. The silence in the car seemed almost deafening, but I was probably the only one who felt that way. Rather unsurprisingly, Finn has become very comfortable with quiet.

"Puck's grave was kind of nice, though." He was back to being thoughtful.

I had no idea what made a grave nice or not nice in Finn's mind. Actually, I had no idea what made a grave nice or not nice in anyone's mind. It was a rock on the ground, underneath which a body lay moldering away. There was nothing nice about any of that.

"I didn't feel close to Puck, but at least I know where is. The grass on it is really short and there aren't any weeds. Do you think his Mom comes out here and takes care of it?"

"I'm sure she does." My father still took care of my mother's grave, even all these years later.

"I'll bet she hates me." His voice was quiet and reflective.

"She doesn't hate you." I tried to make my voice sound cheerful and not at all like I was lying through my teeth. In truth, I didn't know whether or not Nancy Puckerman hated Finn, but she had been conspicuously absent from our house ever since he had come back. Before, when Puck was dead and Finn was simply missing, she had been at our place a lot, making sure Carole ate and doing everything possible to bring Finn home. But now there was radio silence from her end of things.

"I think she does. Because if it were the other way around, and I had died and Puck had lived, I would hate me. I wonder why that happened."

The last part seemed almost tacked on, like Finn's train of thought was running on multiple tracks at once. "Why what happened?"

"Why he picked Puck to die and me to live. It was all Joseph's choice, so there must have been a reason. I never asked him, because we never talked about what happened before. We all just pretended that I had always been there."

Actually, it was a good question. Finn was bigger and heavier. If you went off appearances alone, it would make more sense to kill him and leave Puck. So there had been something else that had drawn Joseph to Finn.

"Maybe I'll ask him." There was no bravado in the words, which made me realize that he meant them.

"You can't be serious." Even though I already knew that he was.

"Why not? I already have to see him in court, and there's nothing that stops me from asking to see him in jail. I just haven't wanted to." He was watching me curiously, as if I was some lab rat whose reactions would be studied for an experiment.

_Stay calm. He's testing you, Kurt, and your response now can make or break your relationship._

With that in mind, I took a deep breath. "I don't think he'll tell you anything."  
There, now the blame was on Joseph, not me.

"You don't?" He sounded disappointed, but not as disappointed as I would have thought he would. Deep down, he had known that it was a pipe dream, too.

"I don't. Think about it, Finn. If he's claiming he's innocent, he's not going to tip his hand be even letting anyone know that he knows who Puck is. Remember, he's claiming that he didn't pick you up until after Puck died."

"Oh, yeah. He probably wouldn't tell me anyway, just because he knew that I wanted him to. He was mean like that."

He was mean in a lot worse ways then that, too, but I understood where Finn was coming from. Everything about this case boiled down to one simple question: Why? Why did Puck die and Finn live? Why did they take Finn? Why did they think they had the right to hurt him the way they did? Why did they let him go in the end? Why not just leave his corpse somewhere where it would never be found?

The questions were still turning over in my mind when we pulled up to the building that housed Finn's (and soon to by my) therapist. "Do you want me to walk you in?"

His face fell. "You aren't going to stay?"

I had no idea why he would think that I was staying, since I never had in the past. Not even his mother waited in the lobby for him to be done with his sessions. "I thought I would get a cup of coffee before my own session." I pointed across the street, to the little coffee shop on the corner. "Would you rather I stayed?"

"I guess not"

"Alright then. I'll see you in an hour, Cowboy." I tried to keep my voice cheerful. It was hard, but we were all supposed to be encouraging Finn to be more independent, and this was a good way to do it.

I was nervous about the upcoming session, which meant that lots of caffeine might not be the best idea, but the thought of sitting in that lobby was even worse. There were plenty of tables by the windows, so I could keep an eye out for Finn while I enjoyed myself.

He leaned over and kissed me. "Ok, bye."

See voice, he is getting better! He had kissed me because he wanted to, not because I had given even the smallest indication that that was what I expected of him.

_I never said he wasn't getting better. He's doing just fine. He's just taking things very, very, slowly._

I made sure that Finn was inside the building before I pulled away, even though there were cars waiting behind us. Once he was inside, he was safe, but there was always the chance of something happening in those 10 feet from the curb to the building. 10 feet, 15 seconds, that's how long it took last time.

And, yes, I knew how paranoid that was. That had happened on a deserted road after dark. Finn had been vulnerable and trusting, and Joseph had gotten damn lucky. This was the middle of the day in a crowded intersection. Finn would never be foolish enough to approach someone in a car now, no matter what the circumstances. Still….

But he ambled inside with no problems, even holding the door for an older woman. She smiled and reached out to give his shoulder a gentle pat, but he pulled quickly back. As harmless as this woman probably was, Finn doesn't trust anyone outside the family to touch him.

I found a parking space easily enough, but I had to take a few extra minutes to compose myself. I suppose Finn and I are alike in that it doesn't take much to freak us out, and we have trouble thinking clearly in a group of people. I had to decide what I was going to tell this therapist. It wouldn't be Samantha, since she was Finns therapist and that would be a conflict of interest, but I had requested and gotten a woman. The male doctors might be great, but I just wasn't comfortable spilling my guts to one.

_How about telling this woman the truth? Your family isn't paying the exorbitant private rates for you to start lying. Be as honest as possible, even about the embarrassing parts, because this woman is trying to help you. _

Maybe I should have just asked Finn for some tips. After all, he was certainly happy with his therapist, so there must be some trick to making it into an enjoyable experience. Of course, there was also the fact that Finn was much more of a people person then I was, and had the amazing ability to make people like him without even trying.

With a heavy sigh, I stepped out of the car and walked inside. I could play a few rounds of a puzzle game on my phone while I drank my coffee, just to take my mind off the inevitable.

Since I had an entire hour, and the coffee shop owners tend to frown on you just hanging around without a drink, I ordered a much larger drink that I normally would have. I was carefully making my way to a table when someone came rapidly around the corner and slammed into me, causing me to dump the scalding liquid all over my expensive shirt. "Ow! You moron!" Shock prevented the words from being as loud as I would have liked them to be.

"I'm so sorry!" The guy who had hit me was about my age, and had his hands up in a supplicating gesture.

I didn't even bother acknowledging that as I swept into the bathroom and tried frantically to sponge coffee off my cream colored shirt. I was not going to my appointment covered in stains! Even Finn would draw the line there, and if Finn Hudson wouldn't do it, I certainly wasn't about to.

The stains didn't come completely out, but I did remember that there was another shirt folded neatly in the car that would match my pants. Ok, crisis averted. I just needed to get another cup of coffee, and calm down. I couldn't go into my appointment this stressed out or I would explode before the first word came out of the doctor's mouth.

Normally, a little setback like this wouldn't have devastated me, but I was already so edgy that having to wait in line for another drink seemed like a crisis that couldn't be dealt with.

When I stepped back out of the bathroom, the guy who had run into me was standing there with a drink and a muffin. He held them out to me. "I'm sorry that I ran into you. This is the same thing you had, because I asked the barista. Plus, I got you a muffin to apologize. Also, if your shirt needs to be dry cleaned, please let me give you something for the bill."

There was something in his earnestness that reminded me of Finn, and I felt myself softening slightly. It _had_ been an accident, after all and he was trying to make amends. I took a deep breath. "Thank you. Don't worry about the shirt, it will come out."

He smiled happily, and that was kind of like Finn, too. "Are you meeting someone, or…..? Because I wouldn't mind having some company."

Maybe having someone to take my mind off my nerves would be a good thing. "That would be lovely, but I should let you know that I have somewhere to be in-"I consulted my watch. "40 minutes. I have to meet Finn."

"Oh, that's ok." He gestured to a table and we both sat down. "So, who's Finn? Friend? Brother?" He paused, debating what to say next. "Boyfriend?"

I wasn't sure how to answer that. Finn was all three, yet none of those seemed to be the right word. "It's complicated, but let's go with friend."

"Ah." He took a sip of his coffee, suddenly very interested in picking at his own muffin.

_Kurt? Hello, Kurt? Do you understand what's happening here? This boy is flirting with you!_

He couldn't possibly be. No one flirted with me. No one could possibly be that secure with themselves that they just picked another boy up in a coffee shop in Lima, Ohio, for Prada's sake!

_Please. No one just asks if a boy you mention is your boyfriend unless they want to make a move. He's all blushing and breathy, just like you always got when you were flirting with Finn. This boy wants you._

It still seemed a little hard to believe. Besides, who cared who flirted with me? Even though I hadn't admitted it to this boy, _Finn_ was my boyfriend, and I didn't want anyone else. I tried to change the subject. "I'm sorry, I think I missed your name. I'm Kurt Hummel"

He colored a bit, which leant some truth to that voice's words. "Sorry. It's Blaine. Blaine Anderson."

**A/N: Dun, Dun, DUN!**


	37. Chapter 37

"_**There are many ways of getting strong, sometimes talking is the best way."**____**  
**__**―**____**Andre Agassi**__**,**____**Open**_

I had to be sure. But how was I supposed to know? How did you flirt with someone? Suddenly, I was drawing a blank, not only on my own experiences, but those of every romantic comedy ever made. I knew my eyes were huge, and my breathing had quickened. How did I do this?

_Why don't you pretend he's Finn? _

That was a good idea. I pulled my shoulders back in an effort to look taller, then lowered my eyes to half mast. "So, Blaine Anderson, tell me about yourself. Age? Hobbies? Girlfriends name?" See, that was subtle, wasn't it?

_Really? You think _that_ was subtle? That was completely pathetic. _Finn_ is more subtle then that! If you're going to do that, why don't you just flat out ask if he's gay?_

So what? I never had to see this Blaine boy again if I didn't want to. 35 minutes now, and I would be gone from this coffee shop, off to my appointment

His smile grew, and I realized that that voice was right after all. He had been flirting, and I had just flirted back. How did I get myself out of this situation? 

Belatedly, I realized he was still speaking. "I just turned 16. Um, this will probably make you never want to speak to me again, but I love singing. I'm actually a member of the Warblers, which is our schools Glee club. And no girlfriend, I'm gay."

Dear God, my dream package was sitting across the table from me. Gay and out of the closet, member of the Glee Club, dark hair, soulful eyes. Plus, he was a year younger, which made a part of me that I usually tried to repress feel like a total stud. This Blaine was perfect.

Only he wasn't Finn. In a world where there was no Finn, or where Finn was completely uninterested, then Blaine might be exactly what I was looking for. But I had already found my man. My coffee and muffin were forgotten my now, as I leaned forward and rested my head on my hand. "You aren't from Lima, are you?"

"No. How could you tell?"

"I'll give you a tip. I wouldn't just tell people here that you're gay. That's a sure ticket to getting your ass kicked." I said it as kindly as possible. This Blaine needed someone to look out of him, and I didn't want to see anything bad happen to him.

He leaned forward so our faces were almost touching. "I wouldn't just say that to anyone. But I'm guessing that you're gay, too, so I knew you would understand."

Apparently I really was that obvious. A part of me knew that this could still be some sort of trap that he might be setting me up so I would confess and confirm his suspicions. But I was in a public place, not to mention bigger then him. And I would be lying if I didn't say that the thought of having another gay boy to talk to wasn't incredibly appealing. I gave him a weak nod.

"I thought so. The way you looked when I asked you who Finn was. Your mouth said friend, but your eyes said boyfriend. Is he still in the closet? Because that's a tough one."

Just like everything else to do with Finn, that was true, but it was way more complicated then that. I smiled, thinking about everything Finn and I had been through. "Technically. Finn Hudson defies description on his best day."

I knew it was a mistake the minute the words came out of my mouth. Blaine's eyes shot open. "Finn Hudson? _The _Finn Hudson? Of the Lima murder/kidnapping case? You're right, that's complicated."

Great, now I was stuck with this kid. Everyone in Ohio probably knew Finn's name, though I doubted many of them had any idea what he looked like. Every once in a while, he was recognized, but no one had ever approached us. They mostly just stared at him, like they expected him to do something amazing. It didn't matter much, since Finn was so busy scanning the area for people who were actually out to get him to worry about people who were just looking. I nodded at Blaine. "Yeah, it's a mess."

He must have sensed that the subject was now closed, because he moved on. "So, Kurt, tell me about you, then. Hobbies? Age?" He playfully tossed my own words back at me.

"I'm 17 years old and I'm going to be junior this year. I actually sing in my schools Glee Club, too, which is kind of weird."

Blaine gave deep sigh. "Figures. Cute, gay, older man who loves to sing? Of course he's taken."

Suddenly, my relationship with Finn was very, very real. Of course, I had known that it was happening before, that I had gotten the man I wanted most in the world, but it had never seemed real. We hadn't told anyone (and Mercedes and Tina don't count. They guessed, and I still hadn't confirmed it to them). I had never, ever called Finn my boyfriend to anyone but the man himself.

But now it was a solid thing. This man had just flat out told me that he would be interested in me, and I would have to turn him down because I already had a boyfriend. I was really in a relationship, and the thought made me dizzy. "Sorry."

He tried to play it off. "Ah, you know what they say. The cute ones are always either taken or straight."

It was corny, but it did make me laugh. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, when I met Finn he was both taken _and_ straight, so there's always hope."

"How long have the two of you been together? I mean, it must have been terrible while he was…away." He fumbled for the right descriptor, clearly unsure of how to delicately phrase it. Welcome to our world of the Hudson-Hummel family.

"It was, but we weren't together then. We've only been together for a few weeks and it's kind of a secret."

_One that you blabbed to the first boy who batted his eyes at you. Good job, genius._

But I knew that Blaine would keep the secret. I didn't know how I knew that, but I was 100% sure. He drew an 'X' over his heart, the solemn expression on his face making me want to laugh. "I promise I won't tell anyone. What about your family? Any brothers or sisters?"

"No, I'm an only child. My mom died when I was 7, but now he's dating Carole and she and Finn live with us." Again, my mouth was ahead of my brain. Dad and Carole really hadn't been together that long, and I had never had a chance to consider Finn in any sort of brotherly way. I was, however, aware of how it sounded to outsiders.

Sure enough, Blaine was staring incredulously. "Um, so is Finn your brother or your boyfriend, or both?"

"For the moment? My boyfriend. If Dad marries Carole, he'll be my stepbrother. I know, it's weird. It's a long and convoluted story, and it does not paint me in a particularly flattering light, so lets just leave it at the two of them are dating."

My phone beeped, telling me it was time for my appointment. Had it really been almost a half hour? "It's been great, Blaine, but I have to grab Finn a coffee and get going." Since being around Blaine seemed to destroy my mental filters, I was glad that I managed to refrain from announcing that I was on my way to go visit a therapist. At least I had that small amount of dignity left.

He grabbed a napkin and scrawled his number on it. "If you ever want to hang out or something, give me a call. Just as friends, don't worry."

A boy who was attracted to me had just given me his number in a coffee shop. Wow. I quickly jotted down mine back. "See you later."

I was still in a haze as I got Finn a coffee (regular with caramel and extra whipped cream) and strutted out the door. My ego had been puffed up today, which was great, because I was pretty sure that it was going to take some serious blows later on.

There was an open parking spot right in front of the building, which was another good sign. Things were going pretty smoothly today. Finn was waiting in the reception area, flipping through an old People magazine. I dropped off his coffee and collected a quick hug. He wouldn't kiss me, not in public, but his eyes went very gentle, so I knew he wanted to. I rummaged around in my messenger bag and pulled out a paperback and a notebook. "You have a date with Les Miserables. I expect an outline by tomorrow, and remember to cite your quotes." He shot me a blank look. "I'll help you cite things, just make sure you note which pages you got things from. And do _not _call Rachel, because spending 4 hours watching the musical and then listening to her sing all the songs is not going to help you write this paper."

From the way his forehead wrinkled, I knew that he had intended to do just that. The door opened. "Kurt Hummel?"

Finn patted my leg. "Knock 'em dead."

My therapist looked like a therapist, which was kind of soothing. She had grey hair in a bun, and was wearing glasses and a feminine suit. "Hi there. Can I call you Kurt?"

"That would be fine." My voice came out all weak, like I was about to pass out.

"Wonderful. I'm Dr. Davis, and it's very nice to meet you. Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself?"

It wasn't as easy to talk to her as it had been to Blaine just a few minutes earlier. Maybe I could just get away with repeating what I had said to Blaine. "Um, I'm Kurt, I'm 17 years old. My Mom died when I was little, but now Dad's dating Carole, and she and her son Finn live with us. I don't have any brothers or sisters."

"Do you feel like you and Finn have brotherly relationship? How old is he?" We both knew that she knew all of this already, since she had been given a family overview before the session, but I was willing to go along with the easy stuff just so I wouldn't have to deal with the harder issues.

"Finn's 17, too. And, no, I don't feel brotherly towards him. He and I were kind of friends before Dad and Carole started dating, and they've only been seeing each other for 8 months. They actually met because Finn and I were in Glee club together, and I introduced them at parent teacher conference night."

"Why would you do that?" Her voice was neutral, but she clearly knew that something was up.

"I don't know. She was a widow, Dad was a widower, I thought that maybe they would have something to talk about." Dad had bought that excuse, but something told me that Dr. Davis wouldn't.

"Really." She made a few notes; ones that I was pretty sure said the therapist's version of 'liar liar pants on fire'.

_You need to be honest with this woman. Her job is to keep your secrets and help you, and she can't do either one of those things if you don't tell her the truth. Just admit it and move on. _

"You can't repeat anything I say to you, right? Because that's what Finn's therapist said. That anything I say to you has to be kept secret, unless I threaten to kill someone or kill myself." I knew that that was true, but I had to hear it come out of her mouth.

"Yes. I won't tell anyone anything, and that includes your father or the other therapists in this clinic." 

"I had a huge crush on Finn, but he didn't think of me like that, so I set Dad up with Carole because I was hoping they would move in together and Finn and I would have to share a room. There." I stared defiantly at her, almost daring her to say something about the absolute insanity of that plan. Because, in retrospect, it was totally crazy. When you're truly desperate, and I had been, sometimes even crazy things start to look like a really good idea.

"And how did that work out for you?" Again, there was no judgment in her voice, but she probably heard worse confessions twice a week.

"It didn't. He knew why I was pushing our parents together, and he got really pissed off. I think it probably would have turned really ugly if Finn hadn't disappeared." I was making progress, but I still had trouble using the term 'kidnapped'.

"What do you think would have happened?"

"I don't know. Something really bad." I had asked myself the question many, many times, but I had never come up with a satisfactory answer. I seriously doubted Finn would have ever struck me. He might enjoy kicking chairs and other inanimate objects, but, with the sole exception of when he found out the baby was Pucks, I had never seen him strike another human being, no matter how satisfying it might have been to. Not even Jesse St. James, whose face I would have gladly pounded in if it hadn't meant my imminent death.

But there are a million ways to hurt someone, and physical pain is only one of them. Finn knew people, and could be shockingly observant when it came to their emotions, which meant he had all the weapons he needed to take you down. I'll bet that there isn't a member of the Glee club that he doesn't know how to devastate in 3 minutes or less. He never starts out with bad intentions, but his temper tends to run away with him, and it never ends well when it does.

"Ok, we can come back to that. Tell me, in your own words, what happened the night Finn disappeared."

Everyone asked that. Dad, Carole, the police, now the therapist. I had told the story so many times that I was actually starting to doubt my version of what had happened. The memories seemed false because I had mentally rerun them so many times. "Carole and Finn had only been living with us for three days. Dad was taking Carole out for the evening, and Finn was supposed to go bowling with Puck. I was staying home. But Finn and I did talk right before he left, about me backing off and us trying to act more like brothers. I thought that maybe things would get better between us."

"Would you have stuck to that promise?" She was jotting down notes, but I knew that nothing I said was going to be missed.

Not a bad question. "I want to say yes. I would have tried really hard to leave him alone, and to be friends, because I did like him as a person, and I enjoyed spending time with him one on one. It's just really hard getting over a crush on someone you have to see every day at school, then come home and share a bedroom with. But Dad was going to put up an addition to the house, so Finn could have his own space. I think that if he had had even a small space that was only his, things would have gotten a lot better. He's an only child too, and that was a lot of sharing. I tried to make room for his stuff, but I just had more, so I think he felt pushed into a corner. Probably in more ways then one."

"He was supposed to be back by one, and he said that he and I could watch a movie together. You know, a fresh start." That was one thing that was very clear in my mind, because it was that last image I would have of Finn the way he had been, the cheerful, naïve trusting child, instead of Finn the way he was now. Not that there was anything wrong with who he was now, but I did have to say goodbye to that kid.

"Except he didn't come back." She was barely prompting me now, letting me tell the story at my pace. Vaguely, I remembered doing the same thing to Finn, the night he had started talking again.

"Right, he didn't come back. And I was mad at him. A little worried, but mostly mad. And that was why I didn't call the police, and I didn't call Dad and Carole. I called Finn's cell, and I called the hospital, just in case, and I even called Puck's phone, but I didn't call the people who could have actually helped. Not that it would have made any difference, because those people had already taken Finn across two states by the time he was late getting home, but I had no way of knowing that."

"Anyway, when Carole and Dad got home, they called the police, and the police said that Finn probably ran away. Except I didn't really believe that. I wanted to, and I even pretended to, for Carole, but, deep down, I didn't think so. Finn just wasn't that sort of guy. Besides, he loved Carole too much. But I hoped he had run away."

"Why?" Dr. Davis leaned back in her chair and studied me.

"Because then he would at least be ok. Maybe a little cold, and maybe a little hungry, but mostly ok. Plus, he was with Puck, and if there was anything Puck knew how to do, it was survive." Suddenly I realized how stupid that statement was. The one thing Puck hadn't done was survive.

"But he didn't run away. They called us three days later and said that they found Puck's body and Finn was just gone. That the Wrights had him but they had no idea where they were holding him."

"So they knew who was holding Finn?" She sounded surprised.

No, I was telling it wrong. My head was starting to hurt, just like it always did when I thought about this. Ok, Kurt, back up and start over with the police finding the body. "No, they didn't. They didn't even know that someone had taken Finn at all. At first they thought that he might have even killed Puck himself. But no one could find a gun, and no one could find Finn. Four months, and no one could find him."

"Tell me what that was like." Now we were getting to the actual therapy part, not just the part where I tell a story.

"Horrible. Every day I would wake up and look for Finn, because I thought that was happened had to be a bad dream. I mean, things kidnapping and murder don't happen to you. Those are things that happen to other families. Bad families."

"But it happened to you."

That was something that a lot of people didn't get. None of this had just happened to Finn. Yes, he had suffered the most, no one was denying that, but it was all of us. Carole and Dad and I all sat there day after day, scared, and hurting, and not knowing if we would ever see him again. We all dealt with the stress, and the uncertainty, and everything else. That was the reason that both Finn and Carole were on medication. "Yeah, it happened to us. The police came every day for the first week, then every other day, then they mostly just called. They all kept trying to tell us to expect to find a body without actually coming out and saying it. Sometimes they would bring pictures of a guy they thought might be Finn. Sometimes they were dead bodies, and sometimes they were unconscious in the hospital. It was…" I stopped, because I had no idea how to explain how surreal this summer had been.

"I thought that it was my fault. If I would have just left Finn alone in the first place, then Carole and Dad wouldn't have gotten together, and he wouldn't have been out that night at all." Dr. Davis said nothing to either confirm or deny my culpability in the matter. Right now I was just telling the story, picking it apart could come later.

"And then, the pictures _were _Finn. He wasn't dead, he wasn't in the hospital, he didn't even look hurt. He just looked like Finn, in a gas station buying a soda. It made me think that maybe he didn't want to come home after all. So Carole and Dad flew to New Mexico, and they left me at my friend Mercedes' house."

"You didn't want to go along?" She seemed surprised.

"I did, but they wouldn't let me. I think they were worried about how screwed up Finn would be, and that he would scare me, or I would scare him. Which made what happened next more then a little ironic." The way I was saying all of this made it seemed like it as no big deal, instead of the horror show that it had actually been.

"I was supposed to be in someone else's sight the entire time they were gone, but I had to go home and get a shirt. It was only supposed to take a half hour. I pulled up to the house, and there was Finn, sitting on the front porch, just like he had never left. He was the same, but he wasn't. I didn't know how different then, but he was definitely a changed man."

My chest felt tight, just like it always did when I thought about that day. At the time, I had been able to focus and do what had been needed on instinct, but it wasn't until later that I realized how dangerous my position had really been. The Wrights could have still been watching, Finn could have flipped out and injured me, anything, really. "I miss who he was."

"That's very common, and not only in a case like this. Your first love is always a more then a little idealized, even in a normal situation. Had you and Finn lived together for more then a few days, or had you actually been dating before he was kidnapped, I'm sure you would have found quite a few traits in him that you hated. Messiness, snoring, no ones perfect, even though they seem that way at first. Usually the change isn't as extreme was the one that Finn's gone through, though the circumstances generally aren't as extreme either. What do you miss the most about who Finn was?"

I had gone over all of this in my mind so often that I didn't hesitate at all. "His naïveté. Before, Finn would believe anything you told him, as long as you were his friend. He just didn't get that sometimes people, even the people you like, are mean or have ulterior motives. His girlfriend told him the old 'you got me pregnant by coming in a hot tub' story, and it never once occurred to him that she was lying. She was his girlfriend, he loved her, she was telling the truth. He had no idea how the real world worked."

There were a few other examples, but they were ones I had only suspicions about, no real proof, and I didn't want to stir the pot by bringing them up. I've been accused of being paranoid in the past, but sometimes paranoia has been the only thing that saved me from a particularly vicious dumpster dive, or worse.

The first was about the circumstances surrounding Finn joining the Glee Club. There was no way on this planet that he had joined without Mr. Shuester holding something over his head. At the time, he had muttered something about extra credit for Spanish, but I don't believe it. Coach Sylvester might be able to get away with giving her Cheerios extra credit for activities performed outside the subject being graded, but Mr. Shue would never have the balls to try something like that. Plus, I know Finn, and I know his expressions and gestures, and he had been lying. I had been watchful, and tried to ask Finn a few different ways to see what he was being blackmailed with, but he had always refuse to say. Finn has his flaws, but I honestly couldn't think of anything he could have done that would be so terrible if it came out that he could be coerced into joining the least popular club in school. Drinking? Not Finn. Drugs? Never touched them. Cheating? No. I had to say it for the boy, he passed or failed all on his own, which is more then I can say for most of the school. I was never able to figure it out, and things ended up going on, business as usual. It still stuck in the back of my mind, but there are some things that you just never know about, and I had accepted that this would probably be one of them.

The other thing I wondered about was far more serious. Like Finn, I'm capable of subtracting simple numbers. Unlike Finn, I'm a compulsive double checker of dates. Finn was born in May of 1994, after the first Iraq war was over. I might have written it off as his father impregnating Carole during shore leave and dying before Finn was ever born, but I've seen the picture of Finn and his father. That thing is one of his most treasured possessions, how could I miss it? But if the war was over by the time Finn was even born, then his father couldn't have died in it. To quote Hamlet, something was rotten in the state of Denmark.

I had even considered that Finn was simply confused. After all, he did think that Osama Bin Laden was the target the first time around, too, no matter how many times you explained to him that Iraq was ruled by Saddam Hussein. Dates and time are more then a little fluid to him, and don't tend to stay in his mind for very long.

But then I specifically heard Carole repeat the same story to him. If anyone should have been sure about what happened, it was her. She was a grown woman, and this was her husband, the love of her life. My father not only knows the date of my mother's death, but the exact time as well. It's not something you forget.

Maybe what had happened was a friendly fire incident or even an accident while on base and Finn had just built the fantasy up in his mind until it became something else. That Carole had told a little white lie about what happened. Or maybe it was something much deeper and more terrible. It drove me crazy, but there wasn't really much I could do about it.

All of those memories went through my head in an instant, while my mouth kept on moving. "I mean, yeah, there were time when I wondered if his brain worked at all, but it did and it does. He was just always able to see the good in people, and ignore the bad. It was sweet." Still irritating at times, but I would give anything to see him be like that just one more time. Like the old song says, you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone.

"What about what you like best now? What does Finn have now that he didn't before?" She was watching me closely. "Or are you no longer attracted to him in that way?"

"I still am." Oddly, I had never thought about this before. Sure, little mental notes on the fact that he could cook now, and that he was picking up after himself, but I had never considered that anything positive could have come out of this. "He's become quite mature." That was a cop out, just something to say while I thought about the deeper question.

"Ok. In what ways?" Dr. Davis was probing, but so gently that I didn't feel insulted. She sat back and allowed me to think.

"He cooks really well, and now he even cleans up after himself. Believe me, it's a welcome change not to have the room reek of dirty gym clothes. His Mom still does his laundry, but he could probably do that, too. When it comes to that, he's very self sufficient."

That wasn't really it. "He thinks things through now. Before he would just act, or fly off the handle. He's not as impulsive as he used to be, which will serve him well in his life." I still didn't feel like I was getting to the root of the problem. "You know, can I think about this one for a while? It's on the tip of my tongue."

"Of course. What would you like to talk about instead?" Her voice was pert and conversational, as if we were two friends having a normal talk.

"I don't know. " Was the 55 minutes up yet? I took a peek at my watch. Crap, still 45 minutes left.

"Would you like to say anything else what happened that night? Or the rest of your family? How about school?"

Suddenly talking about Finn seemed like a much better idea. "He wants me now. As a boyfriend, not as a friend." I could hear how defiant my voice was and I hated it. What I had with Finn was sweet and loving, not something that should be put on display just for the hell of it.

"He does?" For the first time she broke her façade and sounded surprised. "How do you know that?"

"He kissed me. And he told me that he wants me."

Now she was making rapid notes. "I see. And how do you feel about that?"

"Good. I've wanted him forever, and now he wants me back. What isn't awesome about that?" I thought I did a pretty good job of sounding convincing.

"You tell me. Remember, Kurt, nothing you say will be repeated."

_Just tell her, Kurt. What purpose does hiding it serve, except to freak you out late at night?_

"Sometimes I worry, though." Once I started, the words just came tumbling out, nearly spilling over one another in my haste to get them out. "I think that he didn't like me like that before, and now he only likes me because he doesn't trust anyone else, and he thinks that he has to be with me or I'll leave him, too. Then I'm no better then the Wrights, because he feels like he doesn't have any choice but to have sex with me. That makes me a pervert." I picked at my shirt sleeve. "I want him to like me because I'm me, not because he thinks it's the only way I'll be willing to be close to him. Finn doesn't really know how to tell someone 'no'. He never has."

"Have you told him that? That you will love him and be there for him, no matter what he chooses?"

"I don't know how. He gets really offended it you treat him like he's stupid, and I don't know how to say it in a way that doesn't make him feel that way. I do keep telling him that he doesn't have to do anything that he doesn't want to, and I've been letting him take the lead in everything we do."

"Have you expressed your other concerns to him? That you don't understand why he didn't like you before, but he does now?"

"Yes. I asked him what had changed, that he saw me as a boyfriend now, instead of just a friend or a brother."

"And what did he say?" There was still no judgment in her voice.

I closed my eyes and tried to remember exactly what he had said. "He said that it was because I was always there for him, and I loved him enough to love him even after….if I tell you something about Finn, you can't repeat that, either, right? You won't tell anyone else?" I wasn't 100% sure how the rules of confidentiality worked.

"Correct."

Even after all this time, it hurt to think about this. "You know what they did to him, right?" The word rape stuck on my tongue and bounced back up into my brain until it was all I could think. Rape. Sexual assault. Molestation. Sodomy. So many words, and they still didn't come close to the true sickness of the act.

"I don't. Finn is not my patient, and, even if he was, I couldn't discuss anything he said to me with you. Why don't you tell me what you know?" Her tone was soothing, but it still grated my nerves.

"They were…abusive to Finn. Sexually. I want him to be with me because he _wants_ to, but I'm afraid that he feels like he _has _to." Tears welled, and I dabbed at them with my handkerchief. I wish that I would have known that getting Finn was going to be the easiest part of this. I hadn't even gone past kissing him yet, and we were already both tied in knots.

"That_ is_ a valid concern in cases like this. How often does Finn initiate sexual contact with you?"

At least I could answer that honestly. "Most of the time, actually. I almost always let him come to me for kisses. When I want to kiss him, I ask first." It was something I was very careful about, and, if Finn seemed hesitant, I backed off. Not that he ever had, though. Once Finn had decided that kissing me was alright, he was very, very into it.

"What about when things move beyond kissing? Who initiates then?"

Now I not only had to admit that I was in this bizarre, psudo-insestuous relationship, but that it wasn't going anywhere. "No one. He walked in me naked one time, but we haven't actually done anything. I would let him make the first move, though." That wasn't quite as generous as it sounded. The truth of the matter was, I was as frightened of going further as Finn was, maybe even more so. If I, as someone Finn trusted, messed things up and hurt him, he would never be able to trust anyone again. I knew that as well as I had ever known anything. There was so much responsibility riding on me that I couldn't help but be terrified I would mess things up. Hesitantly, I voiced that to Dr. Davis.

"So you don't feel like Finn has any responsibility for himself and his actions? Why should be all on you?"

"Because Finn's…." I had to stop there, because I couldn't think of a non-offensive way to put this. Stupid wasn't right, because I knew that he wasn't. Messed up was closer, but that wasn't exactly it either. "I don't know."

"Can I offer a suggestion?"

Wasn't that what she was getting paid an obscene amount of money for? Dad's insurance was covering most of it, but it was still a lot. Luckily, there was a victim's advocacy group that was paying for Finn's doctor, at least through the trial. When you go every single week, it doesn't take long to use up all of what insurance would cover. "Sure."

"You need to have this conversation with Finn. Tell him that you're afraid of hurting or scaring him, and ask him what you should do. Either Finn is capable of having a relationship or he isn't. If he isn't, then you need to let him go. If he is, he needs to be given the chance to fully participate."

Sure, it was easy for her to say. It was easy for everyone else to say, because they weren't the ones who had Finn Hudson staring them in the face, looking confused and like he would just rather have anyone else make the choice for him. It was a lost look and it made me want to step in and do things for him.

Which I guess was kind of the point Dr. Davis was trying to make. Everyone always did everything for Finn, because he looked so helpless and pitiful. But he wasn't. Every time I asked him to man up and do something for himself, he did it. So what made me think he wasn't capable of having a simple conversation? "I guess that makes sense."

"If you would like, either Dr. Hayden or I could mediate a conversation between the pair of you."

Yeah, not going to happen . The thought of having this conversation with Finn was humiliating enough, but having to do it with witnesses? No. "I think I'd like to try it on my own."

"That would probably be for the best, but just keep it in mind if you need it in the future. Is there anything else about Finn you want to talk about?"

"No." I was suddenly overwhelmingly tired. No wonder Finn came home from therapy on a lot of days and immediately took a nap. Who would have thought that talking would be so tiring?

"Ok. What would you like to talk about?"

I was pretty sure that 'nothing' wasn't what she wanted to hear, so I shrugged instead. "I don't know."

"You mentioned on your questionnaire that you feel that there are a few problems within your newly blended family. Problems between whom?"

That was another easy question. "Everyone and everyone. Except Dad and Carole and Finn and I, but it's easier to not have problems with someone when you're in love with them. That was how I overlooked a lot of Finn's flaws (no, despite what he thought, the boy could not match an outfit to save his life) and probably how he overlooked a lot of mine. "It's hard for me to see Carole doing the stuff my mother used to, and that I used to, even though she's really nice about it."

"What sort of stuff?" 

Everything. There are times when I don't think that even my father knows how much I did around the house. I did all of the cleaning, paid the bills, scheduled doctors appointments and school conferences, signed my own permission slips, and, right up until last year when I joined Glee and had to stay after school three nights a week, had done all of the cooking as well. When I finally did move out and get a place of my own, I wouldn't have any trouble making the transition, since I had already run a household. "I cooked and cleaned and took care of the bills. Now Carole does most of it. We rotate the cooking, between Finn and her and me, since Dad can't cook, but she takes care of the other stuff."

I didn't want this woman to think that I was a total jerk, at least not at our first meeting, so I tried to backpedal. "I know how ungrateful that sounds. Carole does a really good job, and it's not like I actually enjoyed paying the light bill or anything. It's just…different. I know that loving her doesn't mean I don't love my real Mom, and that its ok, but I can't help but worry that she'll leave one day, and then I'll have lost two mothers. And if she leaves, she'll take Finn with her, and it'll be the same as it was before they came, but worse, because at least before I hadn't known there was another option."

That, of course, was the crux of the matter. I couldn't fully trust Carole, because there was nothing holding her to me. She was attached to Finn, because he was her son, and attached to Dad, because he was her boyfriend, but there was no tie to me, except what came through Dad. I was the loser kid, the one that she had to deal with because I came with Dad. If there was no Dad, she wouldn't have ever given me a second glance.

_Really? That's the best you can come up with? However she ended up giving you a second look, she treats you very well now. Even when she's angry with you, she obviously cares for you as well._

"Have you expressed your fears to her? Sometimes it's hard for someone else to judge what's making you nervous. Carole may feel like you don't want another mother, or that you don't like her specifically."

Had I? I closed my eyes and thought back. "I did. I asked her if she was going to leave, and she said that she didn't want to. But my real Mom didn't either, and Finn didn't, and Puck didn't, but they had to."

"Are you afraid of losing Finn again?" The question was soft, but cut straight to the quick.

It wasn't until she said the words that I realized they were true. Yes, I had Finn now, but that was no guarantee of having him later. I could walk out the door and find him gone. He might be there, but vanish later tonight. I woke up at least once a night, every single night, reaching out for Finn, or looking for him if he was in his own bed. I had to be sure that he was still there.

Sometimes at night, when I looked over at him, he would be looking back at me, awake but silent, watching as if he were afraid I was the one who would vanish. I never said anything to him, and he never said anything back, as if acknowledging each other was against some weird middle-of-the-night-staring-contest rules.

And even if Finn stayed here with us, that was no guarantee of really having him. I remembered the way he had looked standing there on the porch, so broken and scared. He had been there physically, but mentally there had been nothing. There are many, many, ways to lose someone, and Finn was still so fragile.

"Yes. I'm…I'm afraid of what's going to happen when he has to get up at that trial and testify. They won't let him go to school this year, because they don't think he can handle it, but they just expect he's going to be able to stand up in a courtroom in front of a bunch of strangers and tell everyone what happened to him. That's not even considering that there's going to be a layer there whose sole job is to make Finn look like a liar. He has no idea what he's going to be up against."

"Do the two of you ever talk about it? The trial, I mean."

"Not really. He told me this morning that he knew it was coming, but there was so much else going on that we didn't dwell on it. There's no date set or anything, and I don't want to make him even more scared and stressed out then he already is. Once we know more, then it will be time to talk about it." I had thought about this a lot; and this was the best answer that I could come up with.

"It sounds like you take good care of Finn." She remained as neutral as ever, but there was something in her voice that set my alarm bells ringing. Hard as I thought, though, I couldn't figure out what it was.

"I try to." There that was a good answer, right? Fewer words were better, since there was less of a chance of them tripping me up.

"My concern is, who takes care of Kurt? It sounds to me like you don't want or expect Carole to do it, and you haven't mentioned your father once, so it doesn't seem like he does it, and you've told me that your mother had passed on. So who takes care of you when you're busy taking care of everyone else?"

"I…" I stopped, because there wasn't anything to say. Still, I felt compelled to defend Dad. "It's not that my Dad doesn't take good care of me, because he does. He loves me, and he helps me when I tell him what's wrong and he always gives me whatever I need."

All of that was true, but it wasn't what she meant, and we both knew it. Why I was trying to lie to this woman who made her living detecting the telltale reek of bullshit was a bit unclear. Yes, Dad took good care of me physically. And, yes, I never once doubted that he loved me fiercely. But did I actually feel like I could go to him and beg for comfort? Not really.

Granted, things were much better in the past year, ever since I had officially come out to him, which made me wonder if the distance between us wasn't largely of my own creation. Even when I was younger, I had never cared much to be cuddled or held by him, always slightly afraid and intimidated. If I told Dad what I needed, he was always happy to provide it, but, the problem was, I never told him. It was just easier and safer to rely on myself. That way, if I ended up disappointed, it was me doing the disappointing. I made myself meet the doctor's eyes. "But I can see where you're coming from. No, my first instinct isn't to run to him for comfort, if that's what you're asking."

It may or may not have been what she meant, but she didn't dwell on Dad and I. "What about Finn? Do you feel like he takes care of you sometimes?"

I was about to say no, but then I thought about it a little more. I remembered the way Finn had picked me up off the bathroom floor when I was too tired to go on, and how he had tucked me so gently into bed. Or the way he had stepped in front of me when Coach Sylvester came after us. If that wasn't taking care of someone, then what was? "Finn does take care of me sometimes." I didn't offer the specifics, but I had to at least be honest now.

"Ok. What I'm hearing is that you and Finn are partners in this. Sometimes you take care of him, and sometimes he takes care of you."

What was wrong with that? I nodded slowly, looking for any signs of what she wanted to hear. "Yes. We take good care of each other."

"Would you consider it to be a relationship of equals?" She was driving at something here, but I couldn't figure out what.

I nodded again. "Yes." It came out small and whispery, as uncertain as a small child might sound.

"Do you think you're treating him like an equal right now? It seems to me that by hiding things from him like this, and assuming that he simply can't handle it, you're not treating him like you would a normal boyfriend."

My mouth dropped open. She was right, of course, but I wasn't used to having it put so baldly. Everyone in my family spoke in exaggerated euphemisms, so as not to upset any other family member. Maybe it was that we were still all so new to each other, and to being a family that we weren't able to navigate the emotional landmines of the average family, or maybe it was going to be a long term thing, but none of us were good at just spitting out what we meant.

I did my best to recover. "I can see where you're coming from, but it isn't that easy. Part of loving someone, and taking care of them, is protecting them from the things that you know they can't handle. Trust me, I know Finn Hudson, and I know that this is all going to be too much for him."

_Do you?_

Of course I did. Finn was tough, but he needed me to take care of him, to make the hard choices for him. Was it wrong for me to want to make things just the tiniest bit easier on him?

_It seems to me that the last time you started making assumptions about what Finn needed and wanted, it almost ended very, very, poorly for you. The only thing that saved you last time was admitting your mistake and begging for forgiveness. But, you know what they say about those who fail to learn from the past…._

That they were doomed to repeat it, yeah, I knew. But….but I guessed I didn't really have an answer for that. Instead of responding to the voice, I addressed the doctor instead. "What would you recommend doing instead?"

"Exactly what you and I are doing? _Talk_ to Finn. You may be rather surprised at what he can and can not handle, or what his opinions on things really are. Probably 75% of what I deal in as a therapist is miscommunications, which is what it sounds like is happening here."

She was right, but she was wrong, too. Finn was a walking study in miscommunication, that much was true, but just coming at him straight on didn't work either. It freaked him out to be put on the spot like that, and he would just shut down instead of talking back. "I can talk to Finn."

"Would you like for one of the doctors to mediate a talk for the two of you? Because we could combine your sessions for that."

There was no way. I could blame it on Finn's shyness around adults, but the truth was that I couldn't imagine sharing my innermost thoughts in front of the doctor. Yes, I was doing it now, but at least I had had enough time to think about what I wanted to say, and make sure that everything came out correctly. There was no way I could do it off the top of my head.

"Thank you, but I think I would rather speak to Finn on my own. But I will keep that in mind for later."

_And by 'later', we mean 'never'. Hang in there, Kurt; it's been almost an hour._

I snuck another peek at my watch and realized that the voice was right. Two more minutes, and I was out of here.

Dr. Davis must have been thinking the same thing, because she made a few quick notes and smiled gently. "Our session is almost up, so is there anything else you want to talk about?"

"A boy hit on me at the coffee shop today." Of all the stupid things I thought might come out of my mouth, that hadn't even hit the radar. Why was I telling her about this?

"That's flattering. Were you interested in him?" She sounded genuinely pleased for me, and it drove home just how abnormal my life had really become.

9 months ago, before any of this had happened, having a boy flirt with me would have been a dream come true. I would have ditched any plans I might have had for the rest of the day in favor of calling Mercedes for an emergency dish session. It would have been the most important thing to ever happen to me.

Now? I was too worried about my therapist appointment to take even few minutes to relish the thought of Blaine. Blaine. Even his name was cute. "No. But only because of Finn. If I wasn't with him, I would have been." It shocked me to even admit it. "And you're right, I was very flattered. I didn't think I would ever get a boy giving me his number, especially not here. Plus, he looked really disappointed when I said I had someone. It's kind of nice to think that someone can see you across the room and think 'there he is, the boy for me'." Even now, the gesture made me want to swoon. "He still wanted to hang out, though. It would be nice to have a new friend. You know, one that wasn't around for everything that happened."

"One that can just be Kurt's friend, not someone who comes over and tries awkwardly to pretend that nothings changed?" She was still sympathetic.

And right. Everyone had been so good with Finn since he came back, but, yeah, it could get awkward. The other day, Tina had accidentally brought up the time Finn and Puck got caught shooting paintballs at the stoplights downtown, and you would have thought the world was going to explode. He insisted that he didn't mind us talking about Puck, but I saw the hurt in his eyes every time it actually happened. Having someone who hadn't known who he was before, and could just accept who he was now would probably be good for him. "Yeah, that would be one way of putting it."

"You'll have to let me know how things work out with him. Our session is up and I have one after you, but I think we got off to a good start. Same time next week?'

"Yes." I wondered what else I was supposed to say here. Did I thank her? Shake her hand? I settled for a quick, strained smile. "I'll see you then."

Finn was slumped down in his chair, pounding away at his Nintendo DS. His book was abandoned on the floor in front of him. I patted his shoulder affectionately. "We're good to go. Did you do any work at all on your outline?"

"Finished." He pulled out a piece of paper. "Here you go."

I unfolded it. THIS BOOK SUCKS.

"Of course it does. No one likes Les Mis. It's boring and dry and the only redeeming thing about it is that the musical is wonderful." I held out my hand, still surprised and grateful when he took it. "Come on. We can do it together when we get home."

"Ok. As long you know I'm doing this under distress." Finn might make fun of my satchel when it suited him, but I noticed that he had no trouble stuffing all of his things in it.

"Duress. Though I'm sure you think that you're in distress as well."

"I'm very distressed. I need French fries to ease the pain." He treated me to a half smile, which I'm nearly sure he knows turns me to jelly. "And maybe cheesecake?"

Finn solved 95%of his problems with food. "Maybe, but don't hold your breath. You do remember we have to stop by the garage before we go home, right? Dad wants to make sure he has coveralls big enough for you so everything will be ready." Finn was usually pretty easy going if you let him know why you wanted to do something a particular way.

"No, I forgot." There w as a tense moment where I thought he might refuse, but he nodded. "We should bring your Dad some fries, too."

Normally I would refuse to allow such a travesty to pass my fathers lips, but Finn had offered to do something for the man without being prompted, which was a rarity. "Sure."

"So, to the garage?"

He nodded enthusiastically, like we were about to set out on some quest instead of driving across town. It's nice to see him getting some of his enthusiasm back. "To the garage!"


	38. Chapter 38

A/N: I haven't been focusing on this story, because lack of reveiews lead me to believe that no one was following it. If you want chapters, you have to leave me a review. I don't mind a bad one, or suggestions for how to do better. So this one is for GleefulCanuck, who PM'd me to ask for it.

_**Jealousy is bred in doubts. When those doubts change into certainties, then the passion either ceases or turns absolute madness.**__**  
**__**Francois de La Rochefoucauld**_

Finn's good mood held right up until we were actually at the garage. He was balancing the bag with several large French fries (enough for not only my father, but the other men at the garage), in his lap, and looked suddenly reluctant to leave the car.

I held out a hand. "Come on."

He hesitated for a second more, then nodded. "It's just going to be a quick stop, right?"

"Of course. We have to be home by 2 so I can get dinner together. Your Mom's working late again, and we are not eating take-out for the third time this week."

To make it home by two, we would be spending no more then a half hour in the garage, most of that having French fries. With that settled, he popped out of the car with no further problems.

I had called ahead, so Dad was the one to greet us in the lobby. "Hi, boys."

"Hi." Finn's voice was jerky, just like it always was when he spoke directly to Dad. "We brought a snack for everyone."

"You did?" Dad's face broke into a huge grin at the sight of the familiar bags of food. "Thanks, Finn."

"How'd you know it was me and not Kurt?" Finn's voice was strong and confident, so unlike the way it usually was in public.

"Son, Kurt would never bring me French fries. The last time he brought me a snack it was bread and this weird paste thing that looked like cat barf. And not even good bread. It had all these weird little holes in it."

I swear my father will never have even the slightest bit of culture. "It's called pita bread and hummus, and it's both healthy and delicious. But if you want to eat white starches boiled in fat and grease, who am I to tell you no?" There was no bite to my words, since Dad and I had already had this argument so many times that it had merely turned back into a conversation.

"I liked the hummus." Finn tried to play peacemaker. "It was really gross to look at, though. But the pita bread was delicious. Why doesn't our country make all these cool breads, instead of just boring old sandwich bread?"

Whatever Dad's reply would have been, it was interrupted by the rest of the mechanics bustling in, no doubt drawn by the smell of food. Finn shied a bit, stepping closer to both Dad and I, then away from me and nearly touching Dad. Interesting.

"Guys, you all know Kurt, and this is Finn, Carole's son. Finn, this is Evan, Mike, and Ronnie." He pointed at each man in turn. Finn nodded and gave them a weak wave. "Hi."

They all said hello back and jumped into the food, giving us some space. I wasn't going to eat any of it, but Finn had no problems diving in and grabbing a handful of fries. He sat down next to Dad, sharing his ketchup. "Mom said I'm supposed to tell you that she made a pot roast for dinner, so don't get pizza. Her pot roast is really good."

"Her pot roast_ is_ delicious. Finn, I think I have the right size coveralls for you, but I'm not sure. I have a pair in my office if you want to try them on. They go over your clothes. Make sure that you can bend all the way over and twist around and still be comfortable." Dad was supposed to be working on making and keeping eye contact with Finn when they spoke, but it wasn't going so well. Finn has this strange habit of looking you dead in the eyes, and still not making any connection.

This time, though, they had done pretty well. Finn was in a really good mood, and he nodded enthusiastically. "Ok. I'll do it right now."

I watched him go. "Call me if you need help." I didn't want to make it sound like Finn couldn't do it on his own, but I was 99% sure that he wouldn't be able to. Calling attention to that fact, though, especially in front of the entire garage, wouldn't do much to endear me to him, though.

Finn managed, though. Less then two minutes later, he was back out, looking just like another one of Dad's mechanics. Well, one of Dad's mechanics that I would like to do inappropriate things to over a work bench. He held his arms out to his sides. "How does this look? Is it right?"

I ran my hands briskly over his body, making sure that it looked exactly like I was checking the fit and not at all like I was groping him. There was enough room for him to maneuver freely, but not so much extra fabric that it could get caught in any of the machinery. "You look good, Cowboy."

"It's pretty comfortable." He spun in an amused circle, trying to check himself out from all angles. "Do I get a name tag on the chest?"

Dad laughed. "Of course. If you like working here after a week or so, we'll take it to the tailors, and you can have your name in either red or blue."

That was enough to please Finn. "Awesome. Um, thanks a lot for giving me a job. I'll do really good, I promise."

"I'm sure you will. I have a lot of faith in you, Finn. Now, the two of you get on home and get everything set up for Carole." He smiled at Finn, who, much to my surprise, smiled back. It wasn't a big smile, but at least it was something.

Finn bounded back into the office, shutting and locking the door behind him so he could take the coveralls off. There was no real need for him to be modest, since he wasn't going to be taking anything but the top layer off, but we were all used to Finn's new need for privacy. The locked door was new though, and certainly something that he wouldn't have done at home.

The ride home was a quiet one. Finn was staring out the window at the passing scenery, like he was going to see anything new in Lima, Ohio. He was probably still focused on the cemetery and what he had seen there. In an attempt to lighten the mood, I touched his arm. "So, you'll never guess what happened at the coffee shop."

He looked over. "Something bad?"

Before this had happened, Finn's first thought would have been that it was something wonderful. I would have sold my soul for him to be that way again, even for just a little while.

But I didn't want him to see my disappointment, so I forced myself to give him a happy smile that didn't fool either one of us. "No, nothing bad. I was getting my coffee, and some guy just knocked into me and made me spill it all down my front." 

He gave me a puzzled look. "That's bad, Kurt. I thought that you said it wasn't a bad thing."

I lightly popped his shoulder, pleased when he didn't flinch away. In fact, he seemed more playful then he had in quite a while. "You hit like a girl."

"Well, I don't want to be one of those abusive boyfriends and injure your delicate skin." I lightly tickled his neck, making him laugh. "Anyway, you interrupted me. What I was going to say, was that this boy ran into me, but he felt so badly that he wanted to make it up to me and get me a new drink. So he brought it to me, with a muffin, and sat with me while I ate it. He was very, very, nice, and asked me quite a few questions about myself. He was very friendly for talking to a stranger. Very…flirty."

I has intended for this to be funny little thing that Finn and I both laughed about. Instead his eyes went wide and dark. "He was hitting on you? Was he an old guy?"

Oops. I probably should have been a little more sensitive about the age thing. "No, he was our age. His name's Blaine Anderson and he doesn't go to McKinley."

That didn't seem to make much difference, and I was already wishing that I had just kept this entire thing to myself. But it was too late. "But he was still hitting on you." Finn's voice didn't make it a question.

"He was flirting with me, yes." I tried sounding as light-hearted as possible. "Can you believe that he would do that right out in public like that? That was how I could tell that he wasn't from around here. No gay boy who wanted to live would dare do something like that."

"What did you tell him?" Finn's eyes hadn't lost any of their scary intensity.

"I told him that I already had a boyfriend, of course. Why would I possibly want another one? Cowboy, it's a full time job just taking care of you."

His eyes softened, and I knew I was finally getting through to him. "I take good care of you, too, though."

Danger avoided. "Of course you do. We have each other to take care of, and our parents. I don't need another boyfriend. But he would like to be friends. Would that be ok with you?"

"Ok, I guess. I mean, you should have friends, right? Like, gay friends, not just Glee club friends." His voice was flat, and he was back to looking out the window, giving me no clues as to his actual thoughts. Judging from his tense posture, though, they weren't nearly as generous as his words suggested.

"Are you sure? Because I don't want to do anything that would make you unhappy." I had to offer him the out, a chance to change his mind.

"I'm sure." He picked at his jeans, which were developing a hole in the knee. "Can we stop at the store and get some fancy bread? That's what we usually do when we make pot roast."

"Of course. What sort of bread do you want? French bread? Herb bread? Garlic bread?" I didn't want to fight with Finn at all, and certainly not in the car, where I couldn't reach out and touch him. We could address this further later tonight.

The usual MO would be for Finn to wait in the car while I ran into the grocery store, but Finn insisted on coming inside. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm supposed to be braver now, and a grocery store isn't really that scary."

I suspected that there was more to it then that, but I didn't want to crush his fledging spirit. "Let's do this thing, then."

As it turned out, Finn had rather ulterior motives for wanting to go to the grocery store. By the time we made it to the front of the store, we not only had two loaves of French bread, but an extra two liter of coke, several candy bars, chocolate dipped pretzels, and a quart of French Vanilla ice cream. If I had allowed him to take a detour down the chips aisle, the damage would have been worse then that.

Carole already had the pot roast prepped and waiting in the fridge, so all I had to do was put it in the oven. But there was a salad to be made, and bread to slice, and I supposed a dessert would be welcomed by the boys in the family. Maybe some sort of tart?

"Finn, what sort of desert do you want? Or should we just have the ice cream? Finn?" I turned around, but he had disappeared. I turned the oven on and put the pot roast inside, listening for any Finn related noises. There was a small bump in the direction of the basement stairs, so maybe he had gone down to our bedroom? Maybe he was changing clothes.

Which was why it was such a shock to turn back around and find myself face to face (or, more accurately, face to chest) with Finn himself. I couldn't quite restrain the undignified squeal of surprise. "Finn, you scared the crap out of me!"

He didn't' act like he heard me. "Would you have gotten with that Blaine dude if you didn't have me? He wants_ you_."

Too late I remembered that Finn had a jealous streak, one I had apparently just awakened. "I don't know. Finn, I met him in a coffee shop when he dumped a drink all over me. I only talked to him for a few minutes, which isn't long enough to know anything about someone. Besides, I _do_ have you, and you're the only one I want." I wrapped my arms around him, needing the contact. "Finn? Do you understand me?"

"Yeah. You have me." He pushed me back, but not in an unkind or rough way. "When you're done with that stuff, why don't you come downstairs so we can do some stuff.

'Do some stuff' was Finn speak for 'make out'. He was so cute when he tried to be subtle like that. "Why don't you help me so I'll get done faster?"

"No, I have to….no. Just come down when you're finished. Please." The word was tacked on at the end, like he tended to do, but Finn was clearly upset this time. He was nearly vibrating with nervous energy.

Was it just me, or did Finn get a little stranger every day? Every time I thought I knew him, he had to go and confuse me again. "Ok, but I'm pretty sure this is just you trying to get out of helping with dinner."

"I'll set the table and clear it when we're done." His eyes were pleading with me to just let this go, so I gave in. "Ok, but I'm holding you to that promise."

"Kay." He vanished down into the basement without further comment.

I usually played music when I cooked, singing when I was in a particularly good mood, but today I was quiet. The vents are all connected, and sometimes you can sometimes hear what's going on in the basement if you're quiet enough and the person down there is close enough to the closets. Figuring that little gem out had been enough to cause me to immediately rearrange the room and put my bed on the opposite side of the room.

As hard as I listened, though, I couldn't hear anything. With as much time as Finn spends in that basement, he may know the trick of the vents himself. Even after Carole punishing us, he still eavesdrops on her and Dad all the time. I think it a security thing with him, knowing what everyone else was up to at all times. I'm pretty sure he spies on me as well, though I haven't been able to catch him at it.

Salad and bread didn't take too long, and my curiosity was building, so I decided that the ice cream we had just purchased would suffice for a dessert and went to go find Finn.

He was laying on the bed, his back to me, but he rolled over immediately when I came treading down the stairs. There was something a little off about the way he was looking at me, but the strangeness vanished under a layer of steely determination. "Hey, Kurt."

I usually went to him, so it was a surprise when he got up and came to me instead. "Mom and Burt aren't going to be home for a while, so we have time." He pushed forward until I was back against the wall, kissing me deeply. Well, this was an unexpected surprise.

Not as big of a surprise as what happened next, though. I was so focused on Finn's lips that I almost didn't notice his hands sliding down my body to my hips. From there, he started unfastening my belt.

I jumped. "Finn?" It came out more questioning then I wanted it to.

"Don't you want to?" He stopped so he could stare into my eyes. "We don't have to, but I thought you wanted this."

Since he could look down and see just how much I wanted this, I didn't bother denying it. "I do, but what do you want?"

"You."

There was a small sound in the back of my brain. It wasn't quite an alarm bell, more like a chime, but it was there all the same. But there was nothing to be alarmed about, was there? Finn was initiating, so he must want to do this. Though, granted, my powers of reasoning were a bit hampered by the lack of blood currently going to my brain. "I want you, too."

He grinned and my worry melted away. "Then why are we still talking?"

Good point. I let him undo my belt and drop it on the floor. One hand unbuttoned my pants and slid them down, but he made no move to actually touch me. Instead he went back to kissing. I rested my hands on his hips, but when I tried to reach for the button of his fly, he twisted expertly away. Ok, message received.

Finally, his hands started wandering down my body again. In contrast to his earlier tentativeness, he was strong and sure now, his hands whispering over my hips and reaching inside.

Never in my life had I had someone touch me like this. Never. I didn't even really like doing it to myself. How could it be so different and feel so good when it was Finn instead? It was like he knew my body better then I did, even so early in all of this.

As good as it felt, though (and oh my God, it was better then I imagined it could be), I knew that this was wrong. Whatever had suddenly happened, this wasn't my Finn, not the one I wanted. I cleared my throat. "Finn." It came out a breathy squeak.

There was no response. His head was down, his eyes locked on his hands and what he was doing. Still calm, still smooth, still….actually a little bit robotic. "Finn." This time I spoke more firmly. "Finn!" Now I was actually loud, but he still didn't respond at all.

I grabbed his hands and held them in mine, forcing him to be stop. He stilled, but he didn't look up, didn't say anything, didn't even seem to be breathing. Small tremors raced through his body. 

Since calling his name hadn't helped, I just concentrated on holding his hands and hoping that he would snap out of it soon. My throat was locked shut, and there was no one to hear me if I called out anyway. I was going to have to handle this on my own.

A few seconds (or minutes, or hours.) later, Finn abruptly shook his head and pulled his hands out of mine. He was blinking hard, like he had just taken a blow to the head and was fighting to stay conscious. "Kurt?" His voice was confused, like he had just woken up from sleep. "What the fuck?"

I used his brief confusion to fasten my pants back up. "Easy, Finn. It's ok."

Another hard blink, and his eyes met mine. "I know it is. I just don't know what happened. I just wanted to…" He blushed furiously.

I found it kind of cute that, even before any of this had happened, Finn was so embarrassed by sex. Yes, he wanted it, but he didn't have the slightest idea of how to get it. A hysterical giggle bubbled up of my throat. Now that the immediate crisis had passed, the tension needed to release itself. "Why?"

"Because you wanted to. You wanted to, and I know that you'll get tired of waiting eventually, so I thought that maybe I should just do it. But then I got kind of nauseous but I didn't want to stop and then I'm not really sure what happened. Nothing good, I guess. You're kind of making the same face Mom does."

"What face is that?" My own emotions were changing so quickly that Finn could have ready any of a dozen of them on my face.

"The 'poor Finn, he's crazy' face. " Where most people would have shied away from that, Finn was remarkably straightforward about it. He sat back on the bed. "Guess I kind of freaked out, huh."

"A little bit." I snuggled up next to him, folding myself under his arm. "If you weren't ready, you shouldn't have pushed it. I've already waited almost three years for you, it's not like much longer will make a huge difference."

"I thought I was ready." The words were whispered into the top of my head. "I wanted to be ready."

"And I want to go to a school where people actually shower and aren't a bunch of philistines. Also, a starring role on Broadway. But those things will come naturally in time. I'm not going to get them right now just because I want them."

Finn gave me a weird look. "You want to transfer schools? Won't you miss everyone at McKinley?"

Ah yes, my literal minded boyfriend. "No, I don't want to transfer schools. But that wasn't really the point."

He grinned. "I know. The point was everything has a season and blah, blah, blah." He threw himself backwards, dragging me along with him. "I'm tired of it." He was getting that tone that wasn't exactly whining, just complete exasperation. "Everything I do, I see him. When I take my clothes off at night, or in the bathroom, I have to look all over the place, because I think someone might be watching. At night, I have to keep all wrapped up in the blankets, even when it's like a million degrees out, because he used to try and touch me at night. I can't even touch my boyfriend without seeing him. I want him to go away."

"I do to." Finn's face fell when I said that, and I hurried to clarify for him. "Not because of the sex thing. I told you, we can wait for that. But I hate that it makes you miserable." I spoke carefully, locked in unfamiliar waters.

"It's been three months. _Three._ That's almost as long as I was with him. And I had almost 17 years before that to be normal. He's not even here any more, and he's still running my fucking life! I hate him! And even if he died, that wouldn't fix anything. How long to I have to live with him staring over my fucking shoulder?"

Longer then either one of us wanted to think about, most likely. Logically, I had always known that, but it was another thing entirely to actually see it in action. Finn could get better of course, and I was positive that he would. The hurts Joseph had given him would close up and heal over; making him much closer to the man he used to be.

But not the same. He would always have scars on his mind and heart, little things that would never totally heal. All I could do was hope that he could find a way to heal around the scar tissue.

I didn't say that, though. Finn had a therapist (two, if you wanted to count our family one) and they could take care of any psychoanalyzing that he might need. I was his boyfriend, and my job was to love him as best as I could, even the parts that were damaged and thus less then loveable. I twisted my head so I could look him in the face. "I still love you."

"I love you, too." _Except I don't know if I love you as much as you love me_. He didn't say the words, and nothing in his eyes or face suggested them, but I heard them all the same.

Strangely, though, I was alright with it. There had been a time, really only 8 months ago, that I had thought all I would have to do would be get Finn Hudson to look twice at me, and he would fall right into my arms, just like in the movies.

What an idiot I had been.

But Finn's eyes were telling me something else, clear as day, something I would have missed if I hadn't been so familiar with his every gesture. _I could though. If you can wait a little longer, and be a little more patient, I could love you just as much as you love me._

That was something I could do. Finn leaned his head down and kissed me on the nose, the gesture nearly poignant enough to bring me to tears. "Are you going to hang out with that Blaine dude?" Something about the way he said the name made it sound like a curse word.

"Yes." Finn doesn't like most people these days, so I wasn't going to let him be a downer about this. "I can go to his place if you don't want him coming over here."

He's also become very protective of the house, and doesn't want strangers invading it. We're all ok, and the members of the Glee club, but no one else. It would be a much larger problem if the only strangers who came to the house weren't the Jehovah's Witnesses who Dad couldn't legally threaten with his gun.

"No, bring him here. I don't want you going over to some guy's house when you don't know anything about him." He might be protective of his space, but Finn's a million times more protective of me. The fact that he was willing to give up his private fortress to protect me from Blaine meant more then a million declarations of love.

"I'm sure he's not dangerous, Finn. He's at least five inches shorter then I am, and probably weighs less, too. But we can come over here so you can keep an eye out if you prefer."

He blinked. "Lily was smaller then me, too. It didn't matter, because she had a tasar. I don't want to scare you, but I don't want shit to happen to you, either." Then his face broke into a goofy grin. "So, you only like tall guys?"

The change of subject was a welcome on for both of us. "Yes. Tall, dark and clumsy, with a fetish for Doritos and enough daily bacon to feed the cast of Rent for a week."

"Yeah? Well, I only like skinny guys with more make up and face stuff then most stores and who have the prettiest blue eyes in the entire world. Oh, and awesome long legs, and who can cook, and are super, super smart."

My, my did Finn know how to pour on the compliments. Just like every other man, I was melting underneath them. "Sounds like you desire a very, very specific type of man."

He caught onto the game quickly. "Uh-huh. There's only one of him in the entire world."

I kissed his cheek. "He must be very lucky then, to get you. Or have you not found him yet?"

"I did. Which is kind of neat. I mean, at least I'm good at something. It only took me 17 years to find the perfect guy, which isn't very long, since there's so many people on the planet."

Then he turned serious again. "I won't be ruined forever, you know."

"You aren't ruined now." The words were automatic, but it didn't make them any less true. The only one who was fixated on what Finn couldn't do was Finn himself. I was willing and perfectly happy to just let things happen naturally.

_So's he. The only problem is that he sees 'naturally' as you getting bored with him and moving on to the next best thing. In this case, Blaine._

"You think so?" 

"Of course. When something's ruined, it's forever damaged. You didn't get broken; you just got a little bent." I knew that I was terrible at offering comfort, but I tried anyway.

"No, I got a lot bent. Joseph made me almost every night." My head snapped up at his words, only to be met with Finn's all-knowing smirk. Had he really just….yes, Finn had actually made a small joke about what had happened. I couldn't believe it.

I also couldn't believe the undignified snort of laughter that spewed out of my nose. "That isn't funny, Finn!"

"Dude, you walked right into it." He smiled again, flashing the dimple on his right side.

If either one of us had needed any proof that he was getting better, this was it. There was nothing in this world less funny and more traumatic then rape, but Finn was able to find a small ray of humor. "You're ridiculous sometimes."

"Yeah, but you love me." Even if he didn't quite return the feelings, he was totally secure that they were genuine.

"I do love you."

"More then any other boy in the world?" .

"More then _anyone_ in the world."

"Cool. Do you want to play some Mario Kart?" He slid out from under me to go retrieve the controllers, offering me the better one. They had started out exactly the same, but Finn had thrown one into the wall during a particularly vicious match with Artie, and now it was chipped on the side.

Though I normally don't care much for video games, I do have a soft spot for Mario Kart. Non violent, with pretty colors and fairly easy finger placement on the buttons. Plus, considering what he had been through today, I was willing to let Finn do whatever he wanted. "Sure."

We lay side by side on the bed, touching at the hips. My body was longer now then it had been, but still nowhere near as long as his. I turned my head and pressed gently into his shoulder, feeling the bone and muscle. "You'll be alright, Finn."

He glanced over, and I read a million things in his eyes, few of them good. When he finally spoke, it was with the heavy tone of a man who's been told that lie way too many times already. "Yeah." 


	39. Chapter 39

"_**At the end of the day, a loving family should find everything forgivable."  
- Mark V. Olsen and Will Sheffer, Big Love, "Easter"**_

Thursday morning started, at least for Finn and I, around 3:30. That was when he started poking me, softly calling my name over and over. My poke back was less then gentle. "What?"

"I have something to tell you." He sounded desperate.

That was never a good thing. Whenever Finn waited until the middle of the night to talk, it was because it was something he was too ashamed of to discuss in the light of day. I sat up on my elbows. "What is it?"

"They….the police have a video of what happened at the Wrights. Of everything that happened. He taped a lot of it." I couldn't see Finn's face in the dark, but he was so close I could feel his breath fanning over my cheek.

"We already know that, Cowboy. You told me that they taped it." The fact that Finn can't even remember what he's told me about what happened tells me that he he's still keeping some things back. I've always suspected it, ever since the first night he talked.

"No, it's not any of that. It's worse. I, uh, I know what they're going to show to say I was there vol...volun…because I wanted to be."

The hair on the back of my neck rose. Whatever this was, it was huge. I reached out into the darkness and touched Finn's side. "Tell me."

"It was the very last night, the one where they told me they would let me go, but only if I did something special for him. He looked right at me, and he said 'you know, Jeremy, sometimes I don't think you like it here very much.' I just stood there looking at him, because of course I didn't like it there, but I wasn't dumb enough to say it. Only he kept staring at until I kind of muttered that I liked it alright." He sighed. "That was a big lie, and we all knew it, but I couldn't make myself sound any more enthusiastic. Then he said 'well, what do you think you could do to prove it to me?' and I said that I had already had sex with him and blown him that day, and what else should I do? That made him mad."

"Why?" I didn't mean to say the word out loud, but I couldn't help myself. Joseph had killed Finn's best friend, snatched him, and raped him. How could he be angry with Finn for not wanting to be his sex slave forever? I voiced that thought to Finn, coached in much less offensive terms, or course, only to be answered with a shrug.

"It's not…I don't think he saw it like that. In the beginning he did, that's why he kept me locked up all the time. But after I had been there for a while, I think he kind of forgot how he got me. He really thought that I was there because I wanted to be. That's why he gave me more freedom. He would sometimes even let me go into gas stations or McDonalds all by myself and I never did anything. I think that's why I thought I was ok with everything."

We were veering off track here, and I tried to bring him back around. "Ok, what did he want you to prove?"

"He said I had to." Finn took a deep breath. "He wanted me to do it on video, without him in the frame. He wanted me to say stuff."

Call me naïve, but I've always kind of suspected that there's a limit to how bad things can get. Even though I had thought that Finn was holding something back, I never suspected that it would be like this. "So what you're saying is…."

"He made me say that I loved him, and jerk off on camera. I didn't want to, but it's going to look like I did." He was taking this very calmly. But, then, he had known that this was coming ever since he had called the police and told them were the safe was. It was only shocking to me. "That's going to look really, really bad."

He was right. But we both knew that, so I settled for wrapping an arm around him and squeezing. "Who else knows about this?" 

"Samantha. And I'm sure the police know, and all of the lawyers because they get to see everything. You, of course. That's it. I just wanted you to know, because they're going to show it at the trial, so they can say I'm a liar."

"I know that you're telling the truth, and the jury will know that, too. Don't worry, Finn." I tried to project confidence.

He poked again. "Do you think that they're going to charge me with being a prostitute?"

As I've undoubtedly said before, Finn fixates on the weirdest ideas. "Why would they charge you with being a prostitute?"

"Because I did what one does. I gave him sex so he would give me something back." He folded his body around mine.

That didn't exactly sound like a Finn Hudson idea. It did, however, sound like the sort of idea that a crazy person may have put in his head. "Who told you that, Finn?"

"Lily." The name came out with an uncertain lilt to it, just like it always did. "She said that it was prostitution and I could go to jail for it."

In the beginning, I had had a small amount of sympathy for Lily. Yes, she had been the one who baited the trap, but even Finn had said that she had never physically abused him, and that she had only sexually done so when directed to by Joseph. I still wanted to see her charged, but as a passive participant, rather then an active one.

But I was coming to see that she was just as a dangerous to Finn's long term recovery as Joseph had been. Mental torture can scar just as deeply as physical, sometimes more so. "Well, she was wrong. If you were forced to do it, it's sexual assault as opposed to prostitution."

His brow furrowed. "It can still be assault even if I just did it to myself?"

I wasn't too clear on the details, either, but I tried to sound confident. "Yes. It's also child pornography."

"No it's not. It's not because 17 is the age of consent, and I was 17 when it happened. But as long as I can't be charged with being a prostitute, I'm ok." He was settling back into sleep, his body relaxing. "I just wanted you to know, because I didn't want it to be a surprise in court. You can go back to sleep now."

Easy for him to say. It was also easy for him to go back to sleep. The thing that had been keeping him up at night had been taken care of and now he could snuggle in and rest. I was the one left laying there in horror.

Finn's confessions were always harder on me then they were on him. But I want him to feel comfortable telling me anything, and these were all things I needed to know. I closed my eyes and willed myself back into a restless sleep.

Dad woke us up the next morning by flicking the basement lights on and off, something that drove me bonkers. I rolled over and screamed. "Dad! We're awake."

Well, one of us was. Finn had vanished under the comforter, tucking himself up like a turtle vanishing inside its shell. That boy can sleep through anything, I swear. I yanked the blanket off of him. "Rise and shine, Cowboy. Time for your first day of work."

He moaned and folded up even tighter. "I'm calling in sick."

That might work with Carole, but I was a little tougher on him then she was. "Nice try. Come on, Dad is probably making breakfast already."

Food is a powerful motivator, and he drug himself up and into the bathroom, grumbling all the while. I took the opportunity to dress quickly, my back to the bathroom door. Since I was going to be putting coveralls on anyway, there was no point in getting too fancy. On days like today, it was far more important to focus on my skin and hair. Just about everything I touched at the garage is damaging to one or the other, and I had to take steps right now to ensure that I protected myself as best I could. A shower immediately after arriving home would have to suffice for the rest of it.

Finn finished in the bathroom and bounded out, looking absolutely gorgeous. Damn him, I know full well that he did nothing in there except pee and wash his face. He hadn't even run a comb through his hair, and he could have any woman he wanted right now.

I pointed at the bed. "Your clothes are out."

Every time I chose his clothing for him, I expected him to object. I'm fully aware that my clothing choices are not his choices, and that he can choose his own clothing. He can't put together an outfit, but I can. This was one thing that I knew I was good at, and that I wanted to help him do, just to ease his worries a little bit. I couldn't make people not tease him, I couldn't undo the damage that Lily and Joseph had done to his mind, but I could make sure that he faced each day clean and appropriately dressed for the weather. A small thing, but I've come to the conclusion that it's the small things that Finn loves the best.

He seemed to accept my meager offering in the spirit that I gave it, and was always appreciative of his outfits, even if he was sometimes confused by an oddly placed strap or tie. He came over and gave me a rough, slightly sleepy, kiss on the mouth. "Thanks, Kurt, you're awesome."

"Always." I pointed towards the stairs. "I'm going to be a while, so you can go on up and get started eating." Carole was off today, so he should feel comfortable enough up there with Dad.

Even so, I worry about him. I worry what's happening up there right now, and what will happen at the garage, and what's going to happen at the trial. Then I look further into the future, and it tears my heart even more. What had happened yesterday was still clear in my mind. Would Finn ever be able to enjoy a healthy relationship with a partner? Or had something in him been permanently damaged?

_Probably. You don't go through what he did and come out completely ok on the other end. But that doesn't mean he's as broken as you think he is. _

I know, I know. I worry too much. Only there had been a time, not that long ago, when my failure to worry about Finn soon enough had nearly cost him his life. So what if I was a little overprotective of him now? It was better then being under protective and losing him again.

My thoughts rolled back and forth as I dabbed bits of several protective creams on my face, concentrating on the T-zone. Extra moisturizing for the hands and neck, and I was ready for a quick bite of breakfast.

Dad might not be a gourmet cook, but he's great at basic breakfast foods. There was a stack of toast, eggs cooked two different ways, bacon, sausage, and even some sliced fruit. Wait, sliced fruit?

Finn saw me staring and pointed at the grapefruit. "I cut that up for you. It's full of antitoxins."

As much as I like a huge gesture, it's the little things that make me fall in love with Finn all over again. I wanted to kiss him, but we couldn't do that in front of Dad, so I settled for patting his shoulder instead. "Antioxidants, and thank you, Finn. That was a lovely gesture."

He beamed at me, and for a minute he looked so much like the old Finn that it was easy to imagine that none of this had ever happened. That Dad and Carole had moved in together as planned, and Finn and I had become boyfriends the normal way, instead of the rather circuitous route we had ended up taking. Then I realized that one member of this fantasy family was missing. "Where's Carole?"

"She was called in to work early this morning. I guess the flu is going around and a bunch of nurses are out." Dad was still at the stove. "Finn, do you want another egg? You're going to be on your feet all day."

"No, thank you." He did, however, help himself to another piece of bacon.

It wouldn't seem like such a big deal to an outsider, but, for Finn, this was huge. He had stayed up here with Dad instead of coming back downstairs to me, even though he knew that Carole was gone. Slowly but surely, he was getting better.

On the way to the garage, Dad peppered Finn with questions about what he did and didn't know about cars. Yes, Finn could change a tire. He was pretty sure that he knew how to do an oil change. Beyond that, he could do a pretty good imitation of a revving engine, which made Dad laugh. A nasty surge of jealousy rolled through my stomach. Even though Finn hated his guts, he was still more natural with Dad then I was.

I knew better then to let it show, though. Dad isn't the most observant man, but Finn has become very in tune with me, and he would notice immediately. "Dad, is there anything I can get started on while you give Finn the safety lecture?" See, I could get going right away, while Finn still needed lots of help. I was the better kid.

_Do I even need to mention how pathetic that is?_

Nope, I got it on my own, thanks. Dad gave me a quick smile. "Hold your horses, Son. Dr. Lopez's car is in for a tune-up, and I want Finn to see how a total inspection is done."

At least I would have a chance to show off my skills. "Ok."

I sat on one of the benches and listened to Dad go over all of the safety procedures with Finn. My boyfriend was doing that nodding thing he always did when he was really listening to something. It's like his brain doesn't engage unless his body is moving as well.

Once the lecture was over, I demonstrated how to get the car up on the lift. "Drive very slowly, Finn, and you'll be able to feel the bump."

He was looking kind of pale. "Umm…I hit the mailman one time, and definitely felt the bump then."

That was a story I was going to have to hear at a later date. Dad nodded calmly, though I kind of got the impression that he was re-thinking letting Finn drive or touch anything. He didn't say any of that, though. "Ok, let's just let Kurt do that part for a while. You know, just until you're more comfortable."

Finn gave a relieved nod. "Yeah, that would be really cool."

One the car was parked (and the keys removed to prevent any sort of Finn related accident) everyone seemed to settle down. Dad went over all of the hands off portions, then demonstrated how to do some of the basic checks. "Now you try."

With surprising delicacy and grace, Finn mimicked him exactly, then gave him an expectant smile. Dad looked over and nodded. "Good job, Finn. We'll make a mechanic out of you yet."

Finn smiled, a real one that showed his teeth. "I can do it."

It was nice to hear him have some confidence in himself for a change. Finn was smart, even if it wasn't in a way that school would necessarily reflect, and he learned very quickly with things like this.

I quickly grew bored and restless. "Dad? Is there something I can do?"

"Mr. Richtor's care is in for a fan belt replacement, how about that? It's the red Accord in the back. Finn, careful about touching that. Those are very delicate in some models, and can be hard to replace."

I already knew that Finn wouldn't break anything. He was clumsy as an ox most of the time, but he can also be amazingly light fingered. I've been working on teaching him the basics of piano, and he had picked it up with a fair amount of ease.

Dad's garage is small, so even though I wasn't working with them, I could hear everything that was happening with Finn and Dad. The first 10 minutes were nothing but Dad explaining things and Finn giving and occasional 'yeah' or 'uh-huh'. After the basics were out of the way, though, it got interesting.

_Haven't you ever heard that eavesdroppers never hear anything good about themselves? I don't want to listen to you bitching if you hear the wrong thing._

I seriously doubted that I was going to be the topic of conversation, but I could handle it, even if I was. Finn talked to Dad now, no problem, but he didn't tend to do it very loud. Even so, I could hear exactly what he was saying. "I don't mean to act like an asshole to you."

Electricity crackled around the room. As far as I could remember, Finn and Dad had never acknowledged the strain in their relationship. Finn mentioned it to me, and Dad to Carole. I had even talked about it myself with Dad, which probably meant that Finn and Carole had discussed it in private as well. But to hear it out in the open like this? Amazing.

Dad's voice was soft. "I know that this is really hard on you."

"It is on you too, though. And it's going to get worse really soon. The police have to get ready to have a trial soon. It's in the Constitution or some shit."

Dad doesn't tolerate me swearing, but he never corrects Finn for it. I'm not quite sure if it's because he's uncomfortable correcting Finn in general, or if he just figures that, after everything he's been thought, Finn deserves the right to use poor language on occasion. "He has the right to a speedy trial. There's still a chance that he could waive it, though."

"He won't." Finn sounded tired, like he had already thought this through a million times. "Samantha and I already talked about it. His only shot is to make me look crazy. The longer I'm away from him, the better I get and he can't control me as much as he used to. He wants to have the trial right away, so he can still scare me and make me say what he wants me to. The evidence is already there on both sides, and I don't think they're looking for anything else. It's going to be my word against theirs. Can I have that twisty wrench thing? No, not that one, the other one."

"That one isn't right. You need this one." Dad sounded flustered, like he wasn't sure where to go next. It was a problem that we were all having with Finn. Sometimes he's still the big, goofy, teddy bear that looked at you like you had all the answers in the world for him. Then, just as quickly, he can shoot you this withering stare that makes him look about a hundred years old, with the experience to boot.

"Like this?" Finn's body was blocking me from seeing what he was doing, but Dad nodded. "That's excellent Finn."

"Really?" The tides had turned again, and he was back to his 17 year old self. "Because I've never been good at anything right away before. Except for singing, kind of. I mean, I wasn't great at that, either, but I was ok."

"Absolutely. When Kurt first started, I couldn't trust him to do anything on his own for weeks, and you're getting it right away."

He could have at least mentioned that I was only nine years old at the time, and barely able to see into a car engine without a boost. When he said it like that, he made me look bad in front of my boyfriend.

_He doesn't know that Finn _is _your boyfriend. All he's trying to do is put the poor guy at ease, and it's actually working. When was the last time they were close and Finn didn't look like he wasn't going to jolt out of his skin?_

The answer to that might actually be never. Even Before, Finn had always been somewhat at odds with Dad. Sure, they were buddy-buddy when they were talking about sports or watching the game, but beyond that, Finn was shy, almost skittish. He really doesn't take to change or new people all that well, and Finn had never had a father before. He had liked Dad on a personal level, at least before our lives all went to hell, but he was never quite sure how to act around him. Was Dad his parent? Just an authority figure? A friend? Nothing more then _my_ father?

For about the millionth time, I wondered what might have been, if Carole had forced Finn to stay home that night. We would have probably still watched a movie, but it would have been uncomfortable. Or maybe he would have stormed down to the basement and hidden until I came down to bed, at which point he would lay there and pretend to be asleep just so he wouldn't have to deal with me. After all, Dad and I were living proof that two people can live in this house for years and year and only exchange the barest amount of words and emotions. Home, Glee club, maybe a little bit at Dad's shop. That was all he would have to interact with me if he didn't want to.

And he was stubborn. Before all of this had happened, I never would have believed just how hard-headed Finn was capable of being. For over two months, he had completely refused to speak. No amount of coaxing, begging, ignoring, or even threatening, had convinced him to make even a tiny sound. Finn talked when he chose to, to the person he chose to, only when he decided that he was 100% ready. I could easily see him managing to push me off for a year and a half until we split for different colleges. The best part was, he hid his stubbornness well. No one would notice what he was up to unless they were looking for it. Any complaint on my part would have lead to me looking crazy. Well, crazier. It was likely that, without what had happened, there would have been no Finn and Kurt to speak of.

But it would also erase the shadows under Finn's eyes from not sleeping for days in a row. It would mean having to wear earplugs and hide in Dad's office upstairs, just so I could get my homework done and not have to listen to Guitar Hero played at earsplitting volume when Puck came over in a competitive mood. I would be sharing my father much more so then I was now. I might have even looked at this Blaine Anderson character as more then just a friend. Right now, I could be chasing Finn around the basement, threatening to do all of his back to school shopping for him, instead of watching him and Dad dance around each other.

_Alright, fine_. Two words, carelessly said. _Alright, fine, but if you aren't home by one, or if you do let him talk you into doing something foolish, then there will be no end to the trouble you will be in, Finnegan. _Carole had been distracted when she spoke, already mentally on her date with Dad. The words were burned into my brain, but it was the first two that mattered. Two words, and they changed everything.

Chills ran down my back, and I wanted nothing more then to rush over and hold Finn, reassuring myself that he was really there. As if he sensed what was going through my head, he looked over at me and grinned. I smiled back and busied myself with my own work. See, this was going well.

"Do I get to come here when Kurt's in school sometimes?" Finn carefully tightened a lug nut. "I don't want to be lonely at home."

"Of course you can. We'll have to check the laws on it, since you're still a minor, but I would love to have some help."

"Cool. What do you call this thing again?"

It was a carburetor. Finn knew full well that it was a carburetor. He knows all of the parts of an engine, because he asked me to help him a few nights ago. But the conversation had become too deep and frightening for him, and he needed a way to step out of it. From the sad smile that tugged on his lips, I knew that Dad knew that it was an excuse as well, but we both let it go. "It's a carburetor, Finn."

The rest of the day passed with surprising smoothness. Finn was distracted by what he was doing, and forgot to be antagonistic towards Dad. He seemed happy with what he was doing, and my stomach unclenched. This was good. We were one tiny step closer to normal.

_Normal is overrated._

So was walking on eggshells. Every moment like this, even with the lingering awkwardness, was bonding them together. They were going to need that bond later on. Finn was going to need all of us to help him out. As cliché as it sounded, Finn's family and friends might be the only thing standing between him and a complete breakdown.

It wasn't until we were on the way home that Finn turned his attention back to me. "Did you see what a good job I did? Nothing got lit on fire, and a car didn't fall on me. I was really good at it!"

There was only one thing to say to that. "You were a rock star."

He lit up. "You were, too."

I smiled despite myself. "You couldn't see what I was doing, goofy."

"Of course not." He said it like I was the one being silly. "But everything you do is awesome, so that was, too. I've never known anyone who was good at everything before."

The really cute part was, he wasn't being a deliberate kiss-ass. Finn genuinely thought I was perfect. Well, not exactly perfect, but pretty darn close. "There are many things that I'm not good at. Video games, eating four foot subs, making friends, hitting a baseball."

Fixing Finn, keeping my family safe, making a soufflé that didn't fall, having a normal sex life. I didn't say any of those out loud, but I thought them so hard I might as well have.

One gigantic arm wrapped around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. "Ok, you're good at almost everything. How does that sound?"

Before I could reply, the hair on the back of my neck rose. Years of being thrown into dumpsters and ambushed in school hallways had left me with a highly tuned sense of danger, and my senses were in overdrive. But that was silly. There was no one in the car but me, Finn, and...uh-oh. I braved looking up, and met Dad's eyes in the rearview mirror. He looked from me to Finn, then back to me. His eyes went narrow, and I knew that he knew. My throat went tight, and I knew that my eyes were huge and terrified. Dad gave me a quick nod, letting know that this would be discussed, but not in front of Finn. Just another secret for our family, I guess.

I have no idea what we talked about on the rest of the ride. I drew on all of my acting skills and kept voice light and happy, babbling at the top of my lungs and trying to keep my panic at bay. I must have pulled it off, because Finn seemed to be at ease.

Once we arrived, Dad gave Finn a quick nudge. "Go get changed, ok? Your mother doesn't like it when us guys come home smelling like gasoline and oil."

He bounded off, happy to be released from having to socialize any longer. I tried to follow. "I'm going to go down and change as well. I have to get started on my moisturizing routine before the grease on my skin clogs my pores." I tried to turn tail and run, but his hand closed around my upper arm.

"Nice try. I want you to go downstairs and get changed. It should take you no more then 10 minutes to change and wash your face. Then you come back up here so you and I can have a private chat. Keep Finn downstairs."

Crap. I tried to look as innocent as possible. "Ok. Will we be discussing my back to school budget?"

"No. I think you and I should be discussing Finn, and exactly what's going on between you." He pointed down to the basement. "10 minutes, Kurt."

"Yeah, I get it." Now the question became, how did I get out of this?


	40. Chapter 40

A/N: Like most of my readers, I am very saddened at the loss of Cory Monteith. Regardless of the eventual reason, 31 is far to young for anyone to pass.

_**Love, love, sudden and threatening, quick, confused**_

_**(Pablo Neruda)**_

Since Dad had only given me 10 minutes (and I didn't doubt that he was timing me. For a man who is so laid back about so many things, he can be a real stickler when he puts his mind to it.) I raced down the stairs, trying to buy myself some time to think. Finn was just coming out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. "Hey, Baby."

I had to stop my mental freak-out and give him a kiss. Mindful of his mental state, I made sure not to give him any tongue. One of his eyebrows rose. "Really, Kurt? You can do way better then that."

I tried again, this time much harder and more pornographic. Apparently we had taken a few small steps back, but now we were moving forward again. One hand slipped up under my shirt, the fingertips grazing my back. It was somehow both sweet and hot.

Carefully I broached the subject. "I need you to stay downstairs for a little bit. Dad wants to do some nagging."

His eyes went narrow. "Why do I need to stay down here? What's he going to do to you?"

"Nothing. I just…" How could I put this in a way that was true and non-threatening, but that also didn't let him know that Dad knew about us? "It's embarrassing when your Daddy nags you. I don't want him to do it in front of my boyfriend."

That worked. "Got it. I'll just stay here until you come back down." He settled on his bed and put on ear buds.

There were only 8 minutes left, so I gave my face a quick scrub and put on a T-shirt and some lounge pants. If I as going to be humiliated, I might as well be comfortable.

Dad took me up to his room, which I still had trouble thinking of as his and Carole's room. It was where he always handled discipline. Now that Carole and Finn were here, I appreciated that he took it somewhere private, but it still made my stomach turn flips.

I sat on the bed, and Dad hesitated for a minute before sitting next to me. "So…"

"So." Neither one of us was sure how to approach the elephant in the room, so we just stared awkwardly.

"Do you know what this is about?"

"Yes." Neither one of us wanted to be the first to break.

"Ok." He sat back, waiting me out.

Damn him. Like Finn, he knew that he could sit there silent and still until I broke. "I love him."

"Kurt…" He trailed off, there, trying to figure out what to say. "You do understand that he might not feel the same way."

"He does."

"Did he tell you that, or are you just assuming because he isn't saying 'no'? Because there's a world of difference between those two things." He was still trying to avoid one important thing.

"His name is Finn, you know. Just in case you forgot." I really disliked it when people didn't call Finn by name. The Wrights had already made him into an object rather then a person, and I wouldn't allow his own family to do the same.

"I know my own stepson's name, so don't change the subject. Do I even need to go into all the reasons why this is a very bad idea?"

I noticed that he didn't actually say any reasons, which led me to believe that he couldn't think of any off the top of his head. "Yes. Please go into the reasons that Finn having more people in this world who love him is a bad idea."

Dad turned an alarming shade of purple. "I hate it when you twist my words."

"And I hate it when you rush to judgment without giving me a chance to explain myself." My voice was level and calm.

"I'm not. I'm asking you to explain to me why you think that it's a good idea to sleep with your brother. Are there really no other men in Lima?" I could tell that he was trying not to grind his jaw or start screaming.

Why did everyone keep bringing up the brother card? "Finn is not my brother. He's not even my stepbrother, because you and Carole are not married. He was my friend before you even met his mother. And no, there are no other men in Lima. None of them are Finn, so none of them are worth it." There were other reasons, but that was the main one.

"You don't think that you're taking advantage of someone who's been through a lot?"

Sometimes. "I resent you accusing me of being some sort of pervert who takes advantage of people. Or am I to treat Finn like an idiot child for the rest of his life? He wants me, and I want him, period." Tears were threatening, but I forced them back. I hated that I cried so easily when I got upset, but had for the most part accepted it.

"No, not period. Period implies that this conversation is over, and it isn't. Both you and Finn are too young to be in relationships, what happened notwithstanding. Plus-"

I wasn't going to let him get away with that. "We're both 17. A year from now, we'll be planning colleges. You were happy when I was trying to hook up with Brittany when I was only 16."

He didn't take the bait. "I was not happy when you were trying to hook up with her. But I was sure that nothing was going to come of it, so I just let things run their course."

Something pinged in the back of my mind, and I re-ran his words. "So you think that something could come from me having a relationship with Finn?"

"I think that there's a much better chance then you had with the dumb blond. But you have to understand that this is bigger then you and Finn. The choices you make right now are going to affect you, him, the rest of this family, and everything that happens from here on out. Your choice to be with Finn could change the entire outcome of this trial."

Wow, way to not put pressure on me. But I couldn't believe that it was true. "I don't believe that."

He leaned back. "It's true. Look at this from the lawyer's point of view, kid. We're trying to prove that Finn was totally normal before all of this happened. Quarterback, had a girlfriend, decent grades. Every member of that jury is going to be able to imagine that he's their kid, got it?"

I didn't like the way this was going. "Yes." So if having a girlfriend was normal, having a boyfriend was abnormal. Great.

"If Finn shows up at that trial with his boyfriend, who is also his brother-"I started to object again and he cut me off. "Whether or not you think of him as your brother, the jurors will. We'll be presenting ourselves as a family, and family members don't date each other." He tried to crack a smile. "At least not in this part of the country."

I didn't smile back. How could I? If dad had just been being a slightly homophobic jerk, I could have stood up for Finn and I's relationship. But he was making some good points, and I had no way of refuting them.

Dad continued on. "It's not fair. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is. If people see that Finn's with you, then there's always going to be a part of them that wonders if he wasn't with Joseph voluntarily as well. There's always going to be this attitude that gay men will sleep with anything that moves."

Now the tears did spill over. Maybe I had been too focused on the long term, rather then what was happening right now. If something I did or didn't do cost Finn the chance to bring them to justice, I would never be able to forgive myself. If I loved Finn, I had to back off and leave him alone. When I looked down, tears dripped onto my pants.

Dad wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. "Kurt, I wish I could fix this. If it were just about you and Finn, we could talk about it. The doctors could help us make sure that you're both doing everything you can to be safe and happy together. It's not that I don't like Finn, or that I think you shouldn't be able to be with whoever you want. Of course I don't think he's good enough for you, but no one will ever be good enough for you in my mind. But we have to look beyond you and Finn right now."

"But Carole said…." I stopped myself there, partially because I was choking back a sob, and partially because I had been about to say that Carole had said I could have Finn. Like he was an extra cookie or an object to be possessed. I forced myself to be stronger. "What about what Finn wants?"

"Finn wants all of this to be over. It won't be long now, so maybe the two of you can cool it for a little bit?" His hand tightened on my shoulders, trying to comfort me.

"How long is a little bit? The trial isn't going to start for forever, and we have no idea how long it will last. I don't want to do anything to spoil things for him, but I don't want to push him away, either."

He took off his baseball cap and bent the brim awkwardly in his hands. "The trial is starting in 10 days. Carole called me while we were still at the shop. Apparently the Wrights decided to invoke their right to a speedy trial."

My heart sank. "Does Finn know?"

"No. Carole's going to be the one to tell him, as soon as she gets home. Finn needs to focus on what's happening in his life, and being strong enough to get through this. We both know he can do it, but we have to make sure he knows it." He rubbed my back. "Do you understand why I'm doing this? It's not because I don't love you, or accept you, and it's not because I don't want you to be happy. But it's not just you and I to worry about any more. I have to think of Finn as well."

"What am I supposed to say to him? 'Sorry, Finn, but I don't want you anymore?' Because that's what he's going hear, no matter what I say." It was true. Finn's self-esteem had always been low, and his ordeal had shattered any confidence he might have had.

Dad shook his head. "I don't know. How about just telling him what I told you? That you don't think right now is the bets time for him to have a relationship with anyone. If you make it sound like it's you who wants to wait, it won't seem so bad, will it?"

He didn't know Finn. But I did, and it occurred to me that I should be telling him nothing but the truth. Not Dad's version, the real truth, with nothing held back. "Ok. Can I leave now? I would like a little privacy to talk to him." And to get myself under control. The tears were still dripping down my face.

Downstairs, I head the door close, and Carole calling out to us. "Hello? Where are my boys this afternoon?"

We both froze, which meant we could hear Finn pounding up the stairs and greeting her happily. "Hi, Mom!"

"Hi, Darling. How did you do at the garage? Is it still standing?" I just knew that she was hugging him, and my stomach tightened with poorly concealed jealousy.

"Yep. I didn't blow anything up or burn anything down, and I didn't break anyone's car either. For me, that's pretty good." He was obscenely proud of himself.

"That is pretty good for you. Where's Burt? Is he upstairs taking an extra valium?" She sounded amused, and not at all like she was about to give him bad news.

"He's upstairs yelling at Kurt. I don't know why, because Kurt was totally awesome today and didn't do anything wrong." Finn could be a total tattletale without ever meaning to be.

After a brief silence, Carole started up the stairs. "Kurt? Burt? Can I come in?"

"Of course. Kurt and I were just finishing up." Dad gave my back one final pat and nudged me upright. "And I wasn't yelling at him."

Carole took in my tearstained face and shot Dad an evil look. "Then why is he crying?"

Right now, I held the advantage, but I couldn't bring myself to push it. Instead I gave my eye s a quick wipe with the back of my hand. "It's ok, Carole. I'm a little bit over emotional at times."

Dad shot me a grateful look. "Do you need a few minutes to speak to Finn in private?"

She looked back and forth between us, and I knew that she wasn't buying the idea that I was crying for no reason at all. "That would be very nice. I think he'll feel a little cornered if we all jump him at the same time. Burt, are you still going to make us some steaks on the grill?"

He stood up. "Certainly. Kurt, would you like to give me a hand with dinner?"

I might be a little upset with my father still, but I never pass up an opportunity to spend time with him. Especially since cooking was one of the things that I excelled at. "Yes. Can we make steak kabobs instead of plain steaks?" I knew that everyone liked them, and it would trick both Finn and my father into eating some veggies.

Dad waited until we had the kabobs made and on the grill before he really tried speaking again. "You aren't angry with me, are you?"

"No. I know that you're only doing what you think is best for Finn and for me. I can't be angry about that." Whether or not Finn would be angry was a much bigger worry.

"You aren't angry but you don't agree with me." He stepped around me and grabbed some spices.

Well, since he had brought it up, I felt free to voice my opinion. "No, I don't. I see where you're coming from, but I don't see why I can't be with him, but keep it quiet. You know I can keep a secret."

"I know that. But it seems like a lot of pressure to put on both yourself and Finn. Why not just hold off for a little while longer? I know that you've been waiting for a long time to have a boyfriend, but it's too soon to stat something with Finn."

Wait a minute. Did Dad think that this was nothing but a little harmless flirting? I looked him dead in the eyes. "You do realize that this relationship has already started, right? This isn't just flirting. So you're asking me to stop a relationship that's already established, rather then hold off starting one."

His face turned red again. "No, I did not realize that. How long has this been going on?"

I shrugged. "A few weeks."

"Wow." He grabbed the kabobs off the grill. "I always thought I would know when my only son found someone. You're growing up, Kurt. I wish your mother could be around to see this."

I did, too. I did love Carole, but she wasn't my mother. No matter how much she might come to love me, I wasn't her son, either. If it came down to it, she would choose Finn without a second thought. "You think she would be proud of me?"

"I do. Her son is happy, talented, generous, smart, and apparently he's dating the quarterback. What's there not to be proud of? Here, take the plate" The last part was tacked on rather gruffly, as he could see I was ready to cry again. Though I thought that his eyes might have looked a little moist as well.

Finn and Carole had already set the table inside and were making a salad. No one was crying in here, but Finn's shoulders were hunched in a way that told me that Carole had told him about the trial. He smiled thinly at me but just kept cutting cucumbers.

Once we were all served, Carole broke the silence. "Finn, is there anything you would like to ask about the trial?"

"No." He picked a kabob apart, quickly sorting the meat and veggies into different piles. I don't know why he does that, since he'll eat both. "I have to go up there and get sworn in and then the prosecutor asks questions that are supposed to make me look good. Then the defense asks questions that are supposed to make me look bad. Then the jury decides who's telling the truth."

It was a simplified but basically correct assessment of what his role was going to be. "That's right." Dad made a face as Carole dished out a huge helping of salad. "Do you know what you're going to say?"

"Yep, but I'm not supposed to tell you. Samantha said not to talk too much about it, because then I might sound not real. Are you coming to see me testify?" The switch of subjects came quickly, but that was Finn for you.

"We'll all be there on the day or days you testify. But Kurt will probably be in school for the other days. I'm not sure how many days I'll be able to get away from the garage, but I promise I'll be there for the important ones."

Finn took a few more bites. "I don't want to be there every day. But I do want to see Joseph and Lily again."

We were never sure how to respond when Finn made comments like that. I wanted to ask, but I didn't even know if that was right or wrong. Carole cleared her throat. "I don't think that you'll see Lily this time. They'll try them separately, so she'll probably only come on the day that she testifies."

"Oh." His brow furrowed in thought. "When will I get to see her?"

Carole was very good at drawing Finn out and getting him to ask the things that he didn't always know that he wanted to know. "I don't know, sweetheart. Her trial won't start until his is over, so it depends on how long it takes. A few weeks, probably."

"Can I have another kabob?" That was Finn's way of closing the subject.

"Go ahead. There's enough for us to have three each." I always made extras with Finn the bottomless pit around.

Once dinner was over and Finn had cleared the table, I signaled him to come downstairs with me. My stomach felt like I had swallowed a brick instead of a single kabob and some salad. How was I supposed to break things off with Finn, when my heart was saying that I couldn't possibly make a bigger mistake?

_Maybe you should listen to yourself and not other people you doofus. Your father loves you, but he isn't you, and he isn't Finn. And, in the end, the only two who have to live with your choices are you and Finn. _

Finn picked up Wolf and held him to his chest, almost like the lion was some sort of shield between us. "Less then two weeks. That's all I have until my life is over. It's weird that after all this time they only have to give you two weeks notice that the trial is going to start."

I eased down nest to him, mindful as always of invading his personal space. "You know I'll be there for you, right? I'll always be there for you."

It was those words that cemented in my mind that I couldn't break up with Finn now. It would be a betrayal that he wouldn't be able to get past. Whatever was coming, we would face it together.

But I couldn't ignore the points Dad had raised, either. "So, Dad knows about you and me."

He tensed. "Is he mad?"

"No." I had to get that out there right away, or Finn would freak himself out to the point where he would shut down and couldn't listen to anything else I was saying. "He's very surprised, but he's not angry."

"That's good. I don't want him to be angry." He picked at the stuffed animals fur, which was rapidly becoming a nervous habit. The poor lion was missing about a quarter of his mane by now, but I supposed it was better then Finn picking at his own skin or clothes.

"He isn't. But he did bring up a few things that maybe you and I should talk about." My voice broke a little from nerves. What if, after it as all laid out for him, Finn decided that _he_ didn't want _me_?

"Did he try and give you the sex talk? Because he doesn't need to give it to me. I already know and it's creepy to have my boyfriend's father do it anyway." Finn's face scrunched in disgust.

"No, it's not that. It's more about the trial, and how us being there as a couple might be perceived. Perceived means the way other people will look at us." By this point, I could usually tell when Finn might not know I word.

"Yeah, I know that. Samantha and I already talked about what it means. But we didn't talk about what it means at the trial."

"Dad thinks that maybe if you and I show up as a couple, then some jurors will have a hard time believing that you didn't want to have sex with Joseph, too. He doesn't want anyone to have any excuse not to find him guilty." I tried to present the argument in as clear a way as possible.

"That isn't very fair."

I noticed that Finn didn't say that it couldn't possibly happen. Like I had told the therapist, Finn wasn't anywhere as naïve as he had once been. "No, it isn't. He was also a little concerned that people might be weirded out by brothers dating each other." This was actually what I was less concerned about.

"Can't we just tell them that we're not really brothers? We won't even be step brothers until our parents get married." His face was heartbreakingly cute.

"I know, Cowboy, but that's not how it works. What the prosecutor is trying to do is make you look like the most normal guy in the entire world. Quarterback, male lead of the Glee Club, no trouble with the law. Outgoing with plenty of friends. You even had two girls fighting over you. If anything happens to jeopardize the way people view you, it could have an effect on the trial, too. I want everyone to see you the very best way possible."

"But my very best way possible is when I'm with you." It came out in a voice not much bigger then Tina's. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"No! I don't want to break up, because I love you more then anything. I'm just saying that maybe…I don't know."

"What you mean is that your father told you to break up with me, and you're going to do it. How can you say you love me if you're not willing to stand up to him?" Tears shone in his eyes, but they were rapidly getting dark and hard, which was never a good sign. I had about 5 seconds before Hurricane Finn blew this room to pieces.

"That's not how it happened, Finn. Give me a minute to explain." Ok, so maybe few little white lies wouldn't hurt things. "Dad didn't even realize that there was a real 'us'. He thought we were just flirting."

The hard look didn't soften, but his pupils shrank down slightly. Good, good. "But he still doesn't want us to be together" There was no edge to his voice, which meant he was coming down off the ledge.

"Finn, I'm his only child. Of course he would much rather lock me in a tower then have anyone date me. Come on, Quinn's father was the same way." I had to walk a very fine line here of blaming dad but not blaming Dad. "What do you think we should do?"

He shrugged. "I don't want to break up with you. Not even for a little bit until the trial is over. But I get it if you want an excuse to break up with me." One shoulder rose and fell in a feeble half-shrug. "You probably didn't ask for a guy who can't even feel you up."

Actually, considering my rather prudish nature, that was _exactly_ what I would have asked for. There had to be more to a relationship then senseless groping and humping. "I asked for you, and I got you. Period."

"So why are you going to let your father break us up?"

"I'm _not._" Even though I had been. "I just wanted us to talk to you about it. Whether we like it or not, this is bigger then us. What should we do?"

"Don't tell anyone. It's not like anyone's going to think to ask if you and I are together." Finn was giving me a look that suggested I wasn't very bright.

He had no idea what they might ask. There was a lawyer whose sole job was to make Finn look bad, and ferret out even the smallest cracks in his façade. Anyone who looked at Finn was going to know all of his secrets. But I couldn't tell him that, not when he looked so hopeful. "I can agree to that. Let's see, it's just you and I, Dad and Carole, Mercedes and Tina. That's six people who know. Six people aren't too many to keep a secret."

Sometimes one person was too many to keep a secret, as countless Glee club debacles had taught us. I've always been a pessimist, while Finn was the sunny optimist. Since he had come back, though, I had seen only a few flashes of his previous personality. Every time I did, though, I want nothing more then to have that Finn back.

Which was why I said nothing to burst his bubble now. I wrapped my arms around him, pressing against his body. When he didn't object, I crawled into his lap, laying my head on his shoulder. He hugged me tightly, as if he was letting go would cause him to lose me forever.

This was right. Dad meant well, but he couldn't make this decision for us. If this was what I wanted, and it was what Finn wanted, then there was nothing for anyone else to say. "I love you, Finn. I never want you to doubt that."

He rested his chin on top of my head. "I don't. I love that about you."

"That I love you?" This was the first time he had used the 'L' word in reference to me, even if he wasn't saying it directly to me.

"Yeah. That you still love me, even after all this shit. You don't give up." He sounded like he couldn't believe that I wasn't getting this.

Why was it that Finn could see that as a wonderful trait in me, but be completely oblivious to it in himself? "You don't give up either."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course I do. Why do you think I didn't try and run when Joseph let me out at the gas station? I totally gave up." He gave himself a quick shake. "Except that doesn't matter now. I gave up, but I still made it out alive. Next time, I won't make that mistake."

"Learning from ones past mistakes never a bad thing." I didn't tell him that he hadn't given up, because he clearly had. I was just grateful that he had made it out alive. I tickled his side. "We'll be alright, Finn, I promise."

He kissed the top of my head. "Of course we will. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but we will. Because that's how come everything keeps working. The sun comes up; things are a little better then yesterday."

Finn's all over the place mentally and emotionally and he doesn't talk anywhere near as much as he used to, even now, so it's sometimes hard to remember that he has just as many opinions and rights to express them as the rest of the family. "I'll tell Dad that it's a no go, and we're still together."

"Tell him to fuck off and stay out of our bedroom." His voice was light, very nearly a giggle. "He might now like what he ends up seeing."

My father seeing me naked with anyone, much less his soon-to-be stepson might be what finally pushes him over the edge into a cardiovascular event. Not exactly the family bonding he had been hoping for. "I'll put it a bit more tactfully then that."

"Whatever." He nuzzled my neck with his nose. "Let's quit talking about your Dad and start making out again. That's the best part of this."

I'm not an idiot. I know that Finn using making out to distract me, and thus himself, from what was happening. But I usually let him get away with it, because boy can he _kiss_. With skills like his, I have no idea how both Quinn and Rachel could let him go.

So I twisted around in his lap and nibbled gently at his lower lip. I always start out gentle, and let Finn decide how far to take things. Sometimes he can be a little rough, but I think that's more him being overenthusiastic then deliberately aggressive.

Without warning he pulled back and nudged me off of his lap. "That's enough for now."

He wasn't usually this firm (or at all interested in stopping so soon), so I was surprised. "Why?"

"You need to talk to your Dad. Until you tell him that we're together, no more kisses. No more anything else, either."

It was frustrating in more then one sense of the word, but I got where he was coming from. "You drive a hard bargain, Finn Hudson."

He smirked. "Not really. You can go up there and tell him right now. 2 minutes and we'll be right back where we started. Stopped. Started." His brow furrowed again as he tried to sort it out.

"Either is correct." This was my chance, but I was frozen on the bed. I very seldom flat out defied my father, and the thought was intimidating. No matter that it was the right thing to do, and the best thing possible for not only Finn and I, but the rest of the family as well. There was always a fear, no matter how small, that my rebellion would be the final straw, and he would just wash his hands of me. It was a risk I usually found far too high to take.

Finn leaned back against the headboard. "So, are you going to tell him? Because I can if you don't want to."

The only thing that could possibly be worse then me telling Dad would be letting Finn do it. I would at least try to be tactful and kind. Finn would probably enjoy springing it on him as graphically as possible, just to ensure maximum shock value. "No, I'll do it. I just need a minute."

"Do you think that he's going to hate you, or hate me?" He shifted so he was propped up against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him.

I mimicked his pose. "He won't hate either one of us."

"Then what are you afraid of? If it's not him, it has to be me. Because Mom already knows." He was started to get that stormy look in his eyes again.

"It's not you." I got where he was coming from, though. I was trying to play both sides of the fence by having Finn but refusing to acknowledge him to the one person I was closest to. "I never want you to feel like you're the problem."

"Well, _something's_ the problem. If I wanted to live in the basement and be someone's secret, I could have just stayed with Joseph."

I don't think I'll ever hear that name again without my skin crawling. "I'm the problem, ok? I don't want to go up there and tell him, because he's going to be disappointed that I didn't listen to him."

The storm clouds vanished under concern. "Oh. You could have just said that. But you never listen to your father. I always hear you telling him that he's wrong or that you know how to do it better."

It was an innocent observation, but it did sting a tiny bit. Was that really how Finn saw Dad and I? Two people locked in constant struggle? "We agree about some things."

"Well, yeah." His confused look told me that we were mentally on two different planes. "I didn't mean _that_. I just mean that you're not afraid to tell him off. I think that that's great. It means that no one will push you around like they did to me."

"That's kind of strange, because I think I would have faired far worse then you did." I stopped there. If Finn felt up to talking about it, he would ask more questions. If it was something he didn't want to deal with, he would say nothing.

Today he chose to remain quiet, at least for the moment. He just did that thing where one corner of his mouth quirked up. That was the look that said he didn't quite believe me, but that he was glad that both of us were safe now. It was that tiny gesture that gave me strength. "I'm going upstairs to talk to him right now."

The smile I got from him would have made anything in the world worth it. "Ok. I'll be here."

Every step up the basement stairs felt like a million, but I kept going. I owed this honesty to Finn, and to Dad as well. It still wasn't easy, though.

_ No one writes songs about the ones that come easy._

To distract myself, I tried thinking of a song that might describe Finn and I's relationship. Not one song came to mind. This wasn't a happy fluffy Taylor Swift relationship, but nor was it a dreary Adele one. It was just what it was, nothing more or less. Maybe I could write my own.

Dad was still in the kitchen, doing some paperwork for the garage. "You're back awfully quick. Finn took it alright, didn't he? Do I have to go have a talk with him?"

Like Finn would respond to anything Dad said. They were doing better together, but not well enough that I would ever consider it a good idea to put them alone together. "There was nothing to take. I'm sorry, but I'm not breaking up with Finn. It's not happening."

He sat back. "Kurt, we talked about this. I know that it's not what you want, but it's what's for the best."

"No it isn't. It's what's easiest for everyone, no one is denying that. But it's not what's best." My voice wavered, even though I wanted it to be strong.

"Is that what Finn told you?" He wasn't freaking out, which I took as a good sign. Maybe we could still get out of this intact.

"Uh-huh. I did exactly what you told me to, and explained it the way you did. But he didn't buy it." I left out the dark look that I had gotten, and the fact that Finn had immediately known the difference between my words and Dad's. I knew Finn well enough not to be afraid of his moods and glares, but they could be quite intimidating to those who didn't know that he was a big teddy bear inside.

Dad was still giving me the eye, so I felt compelled to keep going. "I mean, he's half of this relationship, so I feel like his opinions should count for more then yours."

Really, that was what it all boiled down to. Finn had made his choice, and his choice was me. It was a heady feeling. I had never been someone's first choice, or really anyone's choice at all, in my life, and now I had Finn.

"I guess there's nothing else to say about it then. You're both big boys and almost adults. You're old enough to make your own choices, and to live with the consequences. But at least tell me that the two of you agreed to keep it quiet for now."

"We did. Are you mad at us?" What I really meant was 'are you mad at me', but I didn't quite have the courage to say it.

"Of course not." He pushed the chair back and held out his arms, which I threw myself into willingly. "I love you, and I love Finn. If this is 100% what you both want, I'm not going to try and force you apart. I just want what's best for both of you."

"We're what's best for each other. I can't explain it any better then that, but me leaving Finn now is going to mess everything up, including him." It was easier to stand my ground now, knowing that I had already won.

Despite his words, I could tell that he didn't really like this. He would back off and let us to what we wanted, but there was an undercurrent of him thinking he knew what was best.

I had to give him credit for not saying it, though. This entire thing had made both Finn and I grow up very quickly, and it I think it's hard for him and Carole to accept that we aren't just average 17 year old boys.

And just so we're clear? I had never been average and don't think that I would like to be, but I would give anything for Finn to be the average boy he was. Then we might be starting school together next week, where I would have to listen to his bitching about Rachel, whom I'm sure he'd end up with anyway, and I could admire him from afar.

"So, go tell your boyfriend that things are fine and your relationship meets with my approval. Carole and I are going to have to have a serious discussion about what is and is not appropriate, but that's for the future."

The thought of them discussing my sex life was mortifying, but I was glad for the escape. The steps that had been so daunting just a few minutes ago melted under my feet as I raced down them. Finn was exactly where I had left him, solid and quiet. He was curious, but he wouldn't ask.

"I told him that I wouldn't break up with you. He agreed that I didn't have to." The words came out in a rush, but he got them and visibly relaxed.

"Good. Come back over and we can make out again."

Finally, something today that I actually wanted to do! Before I did, though, I had to ask one question. "Hey Finn? If we had a song, what would it be?"

He didn't even pause. "The Shrek song."

I had to go back and think about it. "I'm a Believer?"

"No, the other one from the second movie. You know, Accidentally in Love? You're my accident, but a really, really cool one."

It was hard to tell if he had pulled that song out of a hat, or if he had actually thought it out. "You know that I love you even when you tell me I look like Shrek?"

"Would you rather be Donkey?"

"Would you rather not get any making out tonight?" If I let him keep going on this vein, it would last all night, until everyone he knew was a character from the movie.

A quick distraction almost always works for him, and Finn's focus came roaring back to me. "No. I would very much like to make out now, please."

Sometimes he has the weirdest syntax. "Ok, then no Donkey's or Shreks?"

He gave an aggrieved sigh. "No Donkey, and no Shrek and yes making out."

"Come on, then." 


	41. Chapter 41

A/N: Let me be the first to bitch here. I hate, hate, hate this new filtering system on . I didn't always like the old one, but I did have a good chance of getting a story that featured the characters I wanted. If I want to filter Finn and Kurt, I don't want 200 other stories that might have the two of them share a line or two. It makes it really hard to find what I actually want.

Ok, rant over, enjoy the story and a little Kurt abuse for a change of pace

_**True terror is to wake up one morning and discover that your High School class is running the world**_

_**Kurt Vonnegut**_

"Finn, it will be ok. I've been going to school for 12 years now, and this is my third one at McKinley. You don't need to worry about me."

He snorted. "It's the fact that you're going back to McKinley that worries me. I know how those assholes are, and there won't be anyone to protect you."

It was sweet that he was worried, but it was decidedly misplaced. I had survived my freshman and most of my sophomore year with no one to protect me. "I have the rest of the Glee club. It's only a few hours, and I'll be home."

The worried look didn't fade, but he had to recognize that there was nothing he could do about it now. I was going to school and he wasn't, period. "Besides, Glee starts back up next week and you'll be there for that."

Mentioning Glee always perked him up, and a smile touched the corners of his mouth. "I know. I already have my song ready. Mr. Shue and I finished it the other day."

Ah, yes, the mysterious song. Finn refused to give me any hints, but I was hoping that it was for me. If it wasn't, why hide it? I had even gone as far as to snoop in his things, looking for clues, but there was nothing. Apparently he's moved beyond using his sock drawer. By the way? He should thank me for getting rid of those disgusting pornographic magazines before Carole found them. He should be thankful for a lot of things I did for him while he was….away.

"You look really good today." Finn's voice drew me out of my thoughts.

"Thank you. Are you planning on getting dressed at all?" It was a fair question. The garage was closed today, and if I wasn't around to drag him out of the house, he probably wouldn't leave.

"Yep. I have therapy at 11. But probably not until then." For the most part, Finn's delightfully honest.

"Are you coming up for breakfast?" Choosing my first day of school outfit had taken longer then anticipated, so I was running a little late.

"Uh-uh." He rolled over and snuggled back into the pillows. "I'm going back to sleep."

I wished I could snuggle with him one more time, but I just couldn't. I did, however, lean over the side of our bed. I don't even know why we keep his, since he never uses it any more, and it's become the graveyard of my unwanted outfits. "Can I at least have a good-bye kiss?"

That he was happy to give me, which lifted my mood. "Bye, I'll see you in a few hours."

"Love you." Even though he had yet to say it back, I always told him that. There's no one in this world that has been injured by having more people to love them.

His lips quirked up. "I'll see you in a little bit."

He was breathing deeply again before I was all the way up the stairs. Lucky bastard. I grabbed some toast and coffee, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves. Despite my brave words, I was a little afraid of going to school today. It would not only be the usual start of the school year chaos, but the first time I had seen almost then entire school since Finn had come back. I would be lying if I said I wasn't worried.

With the exception of the six or seven school days that I had taken Finn to school with me when he and Carole first moved in with us, I had never given anyone a ride to school. Normally, I like that. It gives me a chance to prepare myself for the day ahead, and get ready for any dumpster tosses that might be headed my way.

But that was forever ago. For almost two months now, I've had a constant companion in Finn. He sat in the passenger seat, making little comments and changing the radio station to something atrocious. The car felt empty without him. Could I be having Finn withdrawal in less then an hour?

Once I made it to school, I parked in my usual place and texted Mercedes to come out and meet me. No one would dare touch her. First of all, she could probably kick their asses. Second, no one wants to bully just her and risk being labeled a bigot. Being a homophobe is fine, but no one wants to be a racist.

She appeared like magic, a vision in dark blue as she strode across the parking lot. Thank Prada she was wearing the outfit I had helped her choose instead of that zebra striped monstrosity that she had wanted. When I started to open the door, though, she pushed it back shut and climbed in the passenger side. "Boy, its a little crazy in there. You are suddenly the most popular boy in school."

I had to ask, even though I already knew the answer. "Because of Finn." I couldn't even fake my way into it sounding like a question.

"Because of Finn. What happened with him and Puck is the biggest thing to hit Lima in probably ever, and everyone wants the inside scoop. Right now, Baby Boy, you're the closest thing they have to asking Finn himself."

I could only imagine the sort of questions they wanted to ask Finn, and the offensive ways the questions would probably be coached. Though I had initially been against the idea of keeping him home, I supposed it did save him the horror of being asked what exactly Puck had looked like after being shot in the head.

I leaned my head back against the seat. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Tell them to fuck off. You don't owe anyone anything. If Finn wants to talk to anyone, he can do it himself when he comes back to school."

It sounded so easy when she said it, but there was no way I would be able to tell a member of the hockey team (or anyone else, for that matter) to fuck off. Being rude and sarcastic was in my nature, but only when it was me. For some reason, I had a miserable time trying to come up with something to say. "This is going to be Hell, isn't it?"

Her hand found mine and squeezed. "Yep. But we can do it. We owe both Finn and Puck that."

Even a year ago, the thought of me owing Noah Puckerman anything would have made me laugh hysterically. Now it was just sad.

Sure enough, people I had never met were in my face and asking questions before I even got in the door. Where was Finn? How was Finn? Was it true that he had been raped? Mutilated? Left brain damaged? Tried to commit suicide? Was that why he wasn't with me? Was Finn going to jail? Was I going to the trial? The questions came faster and faster, until I couldn't tell one from the other. My chest tightened and it became hard to breathe. Mercedes was holding my arm so tightly that I knew it would be bruised by this afternoon, but I welcomed the pain. It was the only thing holding me to reality.

"As much as I enjoy a freak show, this is pathetic even by the standards of this school. Move on or I'll have all of you out there running laps." I had never been so grateful to hear Coach Sylvester's megaphone.

Curiosity is a powerful thing, but fear is even more so, and the crowds quickly dispersed. But it didn't mean much. I wouldn't have protection all over this school, and it only took a few seconds to ask something.

I was raised to be polite to adults, though, so I walked up to her. "Thank you for that."

Her look was pitying. "Look, Porcelain. I'll do what I can, but you're going to need to toughen up. I know that you can't help looking like a ten year old, but you have to stop acting like one. It's time to grow up and take this like a man."

"That's not fair." Mercedes has never feared Coach Sylvester the way most people did.

"You know what else isn't fair? Life. I'm sure Lurch could tell you all about it, if you can pry him out of whatever attic he seems to be being kept in." Her words were harsh, but they were exactly what I needed to hear. This might get better, but it was far more likely to get worse instead.

That was when I noticed the woman standing next to Coach Sylvester. How I had missed her in the first place was a mystery, because she was huge. At least 6 feet tall and built bigger then Finn was. I smiled timidly at her. "Hi, I'm Kurt Hummel."

"Shannon Bieste. I'm Coach Tanaka's replacement." She was trying to act like she, and probably every teacher in this school, hadn't been briefed on what had happened, and carefully instructed in how to act towards me and eventually Finn when he chose to make an appearance. Not that Figgins cared one way or the other, but Carole had made it very clear that she had no issues with a lawsuit if she felt that either one of our needs weren't being properly met. "You tell your brother that if he wants to come back, I'll have a place for him on my teams."

Finn had already been clear that he didn't want to go back to football, but it was a kind offer. "Thank you. I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to play football this year, but he hasn't said anything about baseball or basketball."

"Tell him that he's welcome to try out, even if he's still on homebound. I'll be glad to have him." Her voice was gruff, but compassionate.

Unfortunately, I had been right about the rest of the day. Coach Sylvester had been right. Finn was officially Lima's Freak Show, and I was the man out front taking the money. I'm pretty sure 95% of the words I uttered were some variation of 'he's fine', 'I don't know', 'no', and 'he'll be back in school soon'. Ok, the last one was probably more wishful thinking on my part, but still.

The teachers did their best to corral everyone in, but it wasn't easy. There isn't much to do on the first day of school other then gossip about what you did all summer, and what was I supposed to say to everyone? 'I spent the first half fending for myself while my father and stepmother looked frantically for my kidnapped brother. To break up the monotony, we had regular police visits, where I learned the joys of seeing pictures of dead kids that looked a little like Finn. The second half of the summer was much better, because Finn came home, but I can't share any of the dirty details because I actually respect his privacy. But it hasn't exactly been the summer of my life.'

By noon, I had actually given myself a stomachache and was debated whether or not to call home and beg someone to sign me out of school so I could leave. The only problem was that it was a cop-out, and I knew it. If I got to go home today, I would want to do it tomorrow, and the next day, and pretty soon Finn and I would both be getting tutored at home. No, I had to stick with it. Only three more hours, and I would be free.

I still planned on skipping lunch, though. Maybe some fresh air would help me relax. Mercedes who had told me that the bleachers were a good place to be alone and think. Maybe I could even give Finn a call to check up on him?

I never got the chance, though. I was still in the hallway by the science labs when I found myself shoved into a set of lockers. One of the combination locks dug sharply into my back, and I knew there was going to be a mark there. "What the hell!"

My voice faded when I realized that my assailant was actually five football players, and not one of them was smiling. I juked to the left, but they had already penned me in. "Not so fast, fag."

These boys had been my teammates last year, but that didn't seem to mean anything now. I scanned their faces, looking for one that I remembered and who might help. Donny, Adam, Sean, none of them would do anything. They had all enjoyed rounds of 'toss the fag' both before and after I had joined the team. I didn't even recognize the other two. Either they were new this year or I just hadn't bothered learning their names.

"What are you guys doing?" If I tried not to show them any fear. If I panicked now, I would only make things worse.

No one spoke. Either they hadn't designated a spokesperson, or none of them were evolved enough to form words with more then one syllable. Looking from one to the other, I thought that it could go either way.

While I w as having that debate, Donny grabbed me, one hand clamped over my mouth. "Get him in the room before someone sees us."

No! If they managed to trap me in an empty classroom, they could do whatever they wanted to me. I jerked from side to side, but he was much stronger then I was. The five of them had no trouble forcing me into the room. 

Once we were in there, though, they seemed to be unsure of what exactly they wanted to do to me. Sean glared. "You know that this whole thing with Hudson and Puckerman was your fault, right?"

Oh, dear Prada, were we going back to this again? It wasn't my fault. Finn didn't blame me, and that was what counted. If Puck blamed me (and I didn't think he would. He might have been a jerk, but he did seem to have a pretty good handle on fair and unfair), he hadn't come by to haunt me and tell me about it, so I'm alright with it. Yes, I still blamed myself a little, but I was working on that.

"Hey, Dude?" It was one of the mystery players. "He can't tell you anything if you don't let go of his mouth."

Ooh, one of them had some brains! Donny leaned closer to my ear. "If you scream, I'll rip your fucking dick off. It's not like you're going to using it, anyway."

I would probably get to use mine far before he got to use his, considering his repugnant personality. I nodded, though. Screaming now would serve no purpose. Everyone was in class or at lunch, and no one would be able to hear me. If I could hold out for 15 minutes or so, there was a much better change of being heard.

His hand came off, and I sucked in a few breaths of fresh air. Would it kill the guy to wash his hands once a while? "So, what does the littlest fag have to say for himself?"

"I wasn't aware that I had been asked a question." I kept my voice level and calm, as if I was trying to placate a rabid dog.

"You weren't. But since you need it all spelled out for you, how's this: how does it feel to know that you converted Finn over to your disgusting gay side?"

They knew. But how? I certainly hadn't told, and I couldn't believe that either Mercedes or Tina had. Finn wasn't even in the picture, and our parents would go to their graves before they would tell our secrets. "What are you talking about?"

"We all know that Hudson takes it up the ass now. It's all over the fucking news. He was normal until he moved in with you. Now Puckerman's dead, and Hudson's a fucking fairy."

So Finn was to blame for his own rape. Even though I had known that people would feel that way, it was still shocking to hear someone express it so forcefully. I wanted to refute them, but what was I supposed to say? I refused to confirm the sexual assaults, even though everyone who had a television knew what had happened. "Finn's the same person he's always been. None of what happened to him was his fault."

"We're not blaming him, you queer. We're blaming you." Before I could think of anything, much less an appropriate reply, his fist collided with my stomach. The breath rushed from my lungs, and I struggled to take another. A second punch hit me in the chest, and I swear that my heart stopped for a second.

"Hey!" Adam's voice sounded frightened. "Be careful! You don't want to fucking kill him."

They may well want to kill me. I was not a kidnapper, a murderer, or a child molester, but that didn't matter. My sexuality made me different, and thus the enemy. And because I was a clear enemy, I was guilty in their eyes. I was everything that had gone wrong in Lima, and that was frightening to them.

"Maybe I do. Maybe the scales need to be balanced again." His fist rose again, and I cringed.

Then I was yanked to the side, out of the way of the blow. "No. If you really hurt him, we're going to be in trouble, and off the team. You can't do that."

Due to my new position, I was no longer completely hemmed in. Adam also wasn't holding me as tightly as Donny had been. If I timed it just right….without warning I broke for the door. I knew that I could run faster then they could, and if I could make it to the hallway, I would be safe.

The adrenaline pumping through my body briefly overrode the pain shooting through my stomach and chest. But it wasn't going to last. I had to be quick, and I had to be smart.

I knew that they would think I was headed for Figgins, or a teacher that could help me, so I went in the opposite direction, shooting out the side door of a school and bolting for my car. I could lock the doors behind me and be safe.

I was able to get there and slam the door behind me. Ok, what did I do now? Wincing, I pulled my shirt up to see the bruises already forming on my chest and stomach. Once you added them to the marks on my arm from Mercedes earlier, I was starting to look a little abused. How was I going to get through the rest of the day?

Someone tapped on the window, and I couldn't help but give a quick shriek. What if they broke a window or tried to tip the car? I jerked sideways and found myself face to face with Mr. Shuester. While he wasn't my favorite person, at least he wasn't going to hurt me. I hastily pulled my shirt back down and slid out of the car. "Hi, Mr. Shue."

My voice sounded incredibly fake to me, but it was enough to fool him. "Artie said he saw you go tearing by the window, and called me to come after you. Was someone chasing you?"

No, I was doing it for fun. Of course someone was chasing me. If I said that, though, he would insist on knowing who it had been and why. Then he would make me report it to Figgins. Which would do a grand total of nothing, because nobody cared. The football players in this school were untouchable. The only thing that it would accomplish would be labeling me as a snitch.

"I was just giving Finn a call. I promised him I would do it at noon and I was late." Hopefully that would put him off. At the very least, it would give me some protection until I had arrived at my next class.

"How is Finn? He seemed pretty happy about something the last time I spoke to him."

I would like to think that I was the source of Finn's happiness, but it could have been anything. Last week he was thrilled because Carole made cheesecake to go along with dinner, and two days ago he was delighted because the Wooly Worm caterpillars had hatched and he counted well over a hundred in the backyard. So it could have been anything. "He's doing well. He's been helping Dad at the garage some days and is actually keeping up with his schoolwork. He passed the 10th grade with no problems."

Now that we were on the subject of his favorite student, Mr. Shuester easily forgot about my earlier behavior. "That sounds like it would be right up his alley. Glee starts next Wednesday; can we expect him to be there?"

"Yes. He's looking forward to it." He only talked about it five or six times a day.

"That's wonderful to hear. Let me know if there's anything I can do for either one of you."

Since poisoning the entire football team was probably a little out of his capabilities, I settled for a weak nod. "I'll let you know."

Now that I had to keep an eye out for homicidal football players, I found the rude questions of the rest of the school a little less distressing. At least they weren't likely to add to my bruises. By the last period of the day, I had perfected my icy glare. Really, that was the only response required.

Still, I was drained by the end of the day. Rachel wanted to get the Glee club together, even though no extracurricular started until next week (with the exception of the Cheerios, who never disbanded), but I ignored her text. I just wasn't up to dealing with her drama today, especially since I was sure that Finn was at home having drama of his own.

By the time I made it home, my chest and stomach were hurting miserably. I just wanted to lie down for a while. There were no broken ribs, and no internal damage, but it still hurt.

Finn was sprawled out on the basement floor, working on some schoolwork with his ear buds in. His head bobbed with the beat and there was as smile lurking on his lips. He jumped when I patted his back, and the smile grew into a full on grin. "Kurt! How are you how was school did you learn anything did anyone ask about me when does Glee start how's Rachel do you want to do something guess what we're having sumo chicken for dinner and I already made the salad so you wouldn't have to and your Dad went to the garage for a while but he'll be back for dinner and Mom's at the doctor but she'll be back really soon." He had to pause for a breath there, and just stopped, looking at me expectantly.

Remind me again why I was so desperate for him to start talking again? He had been moving so fast that the only things I got from him were that he was curious about how my day had been and we were having sumo chicken for dinner. "My day went fine. What are you up to?"

He sighed heavily. "Math. Why do they have to put letters in it? The numbers are bad enough."

I knelt down so I could pat his back. "I'll help you after dinner."

"Cool." He sat up and gave me a hug. It was sweet. Or at least it would have been sweet if he didn't hug right on my bruises. I was unable to keep myself from giving a grunt of pain. "Ow."

Finn's eyes narrowed. "Ow what?"

Before I could think of a plausible lie, he pulled me to my feet. "Take your shirt off."

If he saw those bruises, he was gong to freak out. "Finn."

There was no moving him. "Kurt, either take it off or I'll take it off for you. And I'm pretty sure you don't want me trying to undo those buttons."

No, I didn't want that. This shirt cost well over three hundred dollars, and Finn's version of undoing the buttons usually involved tearing the fabric. "I'll do it."

He didn't make a sound as he turned my body, though he was practically vibrating with rage. When he had finally inspected me all over, he pulled my chin up so we were face to face. "So I count one bruise on your stomach, one bruise on your chest, and one in the middle of your back. Plus what looks like finger bruises on your arm. Do you want to tell me how that happened?"

Not really. I thought fast. "Mercedes grabbed my arm too hard. You know that skin like mine bruises very easily."

"Did she hit you, too? Because she doesn't really seem like an abusive woman to me. Who really did it?"

There was no point in lying. "Some of the football players. Adam, Sean, Donny, and two guys I didn't recognize. They shoved me into a locker and hit me."

"Tell me what the two you didn't recognize looked like." The hand stroking the side of my neck was gentle, but his voice was flinty.

This was a bad idea, but I liked the thought of tattling to my big strong boyfriend. It was kind of a thrill to know that he would do whatever it took to protect me. "Tall with red hair and green eyes. Bad skin. The other guy was really short, but solid. He had glasses and dark hair with blue eyes. Cute in a stupid sort of way."

"Greyton and Junior. Ok, I'll take care of it."

He didn't say how he planned on doing so, but at least someone was willing to do something. I hugged him back. "Thank you, Finn."

He nodded vaguely. "Go take a hot shower to loosen up. I have some muscle stuff to put on those bruises. I'm going to guess that you don't want to tell Mom and Burt about it?"

Not if my life depended on it. "I would rather not."

Lucky for me, Finn understands keeping secrets these days. "I won't tell anyone."

Maybe it wasn't the best way to handle things, or the healthiest, but it was the way things were. There were still a few things that Finn had told me but no one else, and I kept those. He would keep mine.

I ran a bath and tossed some Epsom salts in. I probably still had some arnica somewhere, which would help reduce the bruising. "Hey, Finn? I'm going to take a bath instead, so if you need to pee, do it now." Because there was no way he was coming in to do it while I was actually bathing. Yes, I know that the toilet and the tub have pipes that never touch each other, but it's still disgusting.

"No, thank you." There was a shuffling as he scooted over to the door. "I'll come and sit here, though. Maybe you can give me the answers through the door."

Nice try. I wasn't going to just give him the answers period, and he knew it. "Not going to happen, Cowboy. How about we work on English instead."

The evil Les Miserable's was over for him, and we were now on to To Kill a Mockingbird. Fortunately, Finn found this one much more palatable then the last, and was actually making pretty good headway on it. He still asked me how to pronounce a word or what one meant every five minutes, but at least he was doing it and not bitching.

"Kurt? What does fettle-is-ic mean?"

I can usually decode Finn's mangled pronunciations, but this one eluded me. "Come again?"

"Fettle-eyes-ic" He tried another pronunciation, but I was still confused.

"Can you spell it for me?" Almost before I got the words out, he was rattling off a string of letters that seemed to have very little to do with the pronunciation he had tried out. "I have no idea. Can you bring the book in here to show me?"

"Ummm…ok." He didn't sound completely sure, but I heard him getting up. He crept in, his eyes anywhere but my body and held out the book. "Left page, in the middle."

I looked over it, keeping one eye on Finn while I did so. As soon as he thought he wasn't being watched, his eyes raked over my body in a way that made my cross my legs in the tub. So he was interested after all. I tried to keep myself under control while scanning down the page. "The word is fatalistic, Finn. It means that someone things that everything happens by fate and we have no free will and choices."

"Oh. That's not very fun." He sat down across from the tub, his back against the wall.

"W-what are you doing?" I was shocked that he was being so calm with me naked just a few feet away and no door between us.

"Sitting down. There's probably going to be a lot of words that I don't get, and it's easier to just show you. Why? Is it weird?"

A little. "I guess not. I'm just surprised that you're comfortable."

"I'm a lot better then I was, you know. I've been working with Samantha a lot and I'm going to get over what he did to me." His tone was reproachful.

"I know." I would have liked to talk about this a little more, but Finn clearly didn't. Expressing himself in words isn't exactly one of his talents, so I would just have to wait until he was ready to do it with actions.

_You and me both._

I soaked for another half hour and four additional questions from Finn, before I was ready to get out. I hurt less, and the water was getting cold. "If you're going to sit in here, can you at least hand me my towel?"

Again, he averted his eyes, but he did give me the towel. "Just put on some pants, so I can put the cream on those bruises."

I complied, letting him tend to me although I could have easily done the marks on my front and arm myself. Finn likes being in the caretaker role, and it's a good one for him to fill every once in a while. When he was done he patted my back. "It will feel better soon."

Those words made my eyes sting, because it was the mantra we had been living by for so long. It will be better soon. _Finn_ will be better soon. He won't be like this forever. But when was soon? And what was 'better'? The word itself implied that there was still something more, a 'best' that would never be achieved. Bruises would fade, Finn would talk again, but things would never be exactly the way they had before. Better, not best.

Finn tossed me one of his T-shirts. "Here. That stuff stinks and it stains. I don't care if this shirt gets ruined."

It did stink, but the painful areas were already going blissfully numb. I slipped the shirt on, even though it slipped on one shoulder. "Thank you, Finn."

He had already gone back to the bathroom to wash his hands. "You're welcome. What else happened at school today?"

"Same old same old. Mr. Shue asked about you and Rachel tried to get us to practice on the first day. Like anyone but the Cheerios practice on the first day of school, anyway."

He laughed a little. "Yeah, that sounds right. How come you're not at Cheerios practice?"

Trust him to pick up on that, when I was sure that no one else would. "I'm not going to be joining the Cheerios this year."

"Why? You were good at it, and Mom showed me the award you guys won at Nationals. They couldn't have done that without you."

It was nice to get a compliment, and I felt my face flushing. "That's kind of you to say. I did like being on the Cheerios last year, but this year I want to try something different."

That was the kind way of putting it. The truth was that I had intended to join the Cheerios this year, but there was no way I could manage it with harder school work, the upcoming trial, and Finn and his needs.

"Like what?"

"Like….I don't know, having a boyfriend? Would you really want me to be in practice 7 days a week until 8 or 9 at night? That wouldn't leave a lot of time for you and me."

"That would kind of suck." The quirked eyebrow told me that I wasn't fooling him, but he would let this one go. "But it's cool to think that you want to spend time with me so much."

"You're my boyfriend. There's no one I would rather spend with." No matter how many times I said it, it still felt strange on my lips. It probably felt strange for Finn to hear as well.

"Cool." He gave me another hug. "So are you going to give me my math answers now?"

If the answer was no, the first time, it was likely going to be no this time, too, but I had to admire his persistence. "No. But I will help you. Move your stuff up on the bed."

We lay down side by side, touching at the shoulders, hips and legs. While I read over the lesson, Finn laid one arm across my body, pulling me even closer. He didn't say anything about it, but it still made my heart jump a little. Even if my first day of school had been terrible, I could still come home to this. Before I started, I leaned over and kissed the side of his head.

"Ok, Finn, this is a basic solve for y….."


	42. Chapter 42

_I think music in itself is healing. It's an explosive expression of humanity. It's something we are all touched by. No matter what culture we're from, everyone loves music.__  
__Billy Joel_

Careful, careful. Two hallways and then safety. I looked quickly around the corner, and found my way to be clear. Quickly, now. I hated that I had been reduced to scuttling around the school like a cockroach, but it was better then adding to my collection of bruises.

Most of my classes have a least one Glee club member in them, so I'm usually ok with relying on the old premise of safety in numbers. If that was impossible, I tried to at least tag along after a teacher. They might ignore the more subtle hints of bullying, but no one would actually let a beating occur right in front of them. I was still getting slushied and pushed into lockers three times a week, but at least no one had tried to beat the crap out of me. The five dumb amigos were always watching me, though, just looking for their chance.

This was the tricky part of the day. I had no friends in my classes, and none of the teachers in this hallway had a free period afterwards. I had to keep to the exact middle of the hallway, take fast left, then another left, where I could hook up with Mike and be walked the rest of the way to Trig. He had tried to talk some sense into the rest of the team, but they weren't buying it. At this point, I doubted either Finn himself or Puck's ghost could have convinced them that none of this was my fault. The best I could hope for was that I laid low long enough that they would find someone else to pick on.

I clutched my messenger bag tightly to my chest. One more turn and I could see Mike from here. Without warning my shoulder was wrenched back and a pair of lips touched my ear. "You won't be able to avoid us forever, you freak."

Mike started to step forward, but the person was already gone. At this rate, Finn and I would either both be taking anti-anxiety medication very soon. At the least, we would be trying to cover up more bruises.

I pulled up alongside Mike, having successfully run the gauntlet one more time. He was clearly troubled by what had just happened, but, now that my adrenaline was wearing down, I was less so. I had been harassed and threatened for two years now, and this new aggression really wasn't much worse then what had come before it. As long as I took care to be alert, I should be fine.

_If you repeat that to yourself often enough, it might become the truth_.

Or maybe my good mood was stemming from the fact that Finn was coming to school today. Ok, maybe it would be after all the classes were out, and only for Glee, but it was an enormous step forward.

To accommodate him and his new phobias, Glee had been moved from starting at 3:00 to starting at 3:45 in an attempt to get most of the student body out of the school and on their ways home before he made an appearance. The club had also sworn an oath of silence on the matter. For the moment at least, the only ones who knew he was coming were us, Mr. Shuester, and Principal Figgins. Hopefully everything went off smoothly.

This morning had been a good start. Finn woke up at the same time I did and joined me for breakfast. He didn't have much to say, but early morning was never his best time. He asked me a few times to when he was supposed to be there and what we would all be doing, but he mostly seemed lost in his own thoughts.

"Is Finn still coming today?" Mike doesn't talk much, especially to me, but I knew that he was curious. He considered both Finn and Puck friends, and had the same need the rest of us did to keep Finn close.

Funny, I didn't think about that very often. There was my pain, and the family's pain, and even Finn's pain, but everyone who had touched Finn and Puck's lives felt their loss. Maybe not as strongly as we did, but even I had to admit that it's unusual to lose a friend at the age of 16. It's even more unusual to have one murdered and the other lost for months. It was just something that most people don't have to deal with. It didn't mean that they didn't worry or care about Finn, though.

"As far as I know, the answer is still yes. He seemed excited this morning." There was no guarantee that his excitement would hold, but I was pretty sure he would shot up. The more he heals, the most restless Finn gets in the house, and this was a good and safe opportunity for some freedom.

"That's good. We're still going to be one short, though. I mean, I don't really care if we compete or not, but if we don't win, Figgins will shut us down."

That was one of the big differences between Mike and I. I lived for the spotlight, and applause, and the adoration of the masses. Practicing and performing in Glee was just what I had to do to get to the performance part. "We'll recruit someone. A lower range alto girl may be able to pull off some of the parts if we can't get another guy."

I had actually been thinking about that a lot lately. Everyone had been quietly canvassing their circle of acquaintances, but no one was willing to take the bait. Probably because the Glee club was the lowest rung in school society. Or maybe because of the fact that everyone in school knew that I was a marked man. The reason for that had nothing to do with the Glee club itself, but no one knew that. Let's face it; we're radioactive as a club.

Mike forced a smile. "We'll find someone. After all the shit we've been through as a club, it would be really stupid to fall apart over one missing member."

Stupid, but not that far-fetched. After all, incredibly stupid things happen every day. But I admired his optimism. "Of course we will. Thanks for taking me to class."

"No problem. See you in Glee." He wasn't afraid of walking to class alone. The worst that happened to every other member of the Glee club was a slushy to the face, and Mike and Matt were usually held exempt from that particular punishment.

But now wasn't the time to dwell on those things. Now was the time to take a Trig quiz. Then there would be lunch, three more classes, a break, and Glee. The day was halfway over, and nothing bad had happened.

_You do realize that thinking that pretty much guarantees that something terrible will, right? _

I worried all through the rest of the day, but nothing happened. Even in the cafeteria, which was also known as Slushie Ground Zero, the Glee club was mostly ignored. A few permutations of 'freak' and 'fag' floated over, but it wouldn't be lunch time with out that entertainment.

Artie looked up as I sat down. "Is Finn still coming?"

I know this is a little rude, but sometimes I feel like I'm nothing more then the pipeline for Finn information. He has a cell phone, and email. Any one of them could give him a call or sent and email. They could even come over the house and hang out with him.

But they don't. While I don't doubt their love for Finn, they usually rely on having me pass him messages. I get it with some of them, especially the quieter ones, but Artie could text Finn himself.

I know why he doesn't, though. I know why they all don't. Just like I'm the personification of everything that's gone wrong to Donny and his goons, Finn has become a living tragedy. No one will say it, and maybe they don't even know or understand it themselves, but no one wants to get too close to Finn right now, in case his bad luck rubs off.

That's wrong, and I was going to have to stop playing into it. "I think so. Call him and ask."

He shot me a confused look. "Okaay."

But he did it. "Hey, Finn, it's Artie…No, he's fine, he's right here with me…I was just wondering if you were still coming for Glee today?...Awesome, see you then." He hung up. "He's coming."

Tina leaned over. "You're 100% sure that we shouldn't do anything special for him?"

The entire Glee club had wanted to sing a song for Finn when he comes back, to show our support and love. It was a wonderful gesture, and the old Finn would have loved it, but this one wouldn't. Making an enormous fuss over him would just end up upsetting him. "I'm sure. He's going to be nervous and freaked out enough. Just let him settle in at his own pace. Plus, it might hurt not to see Puck up there."

"As long as you're sure." She was disappointed, but if anyone understands wanting to fade into the background, it's Tina.

"Maybe in a few weeks, once things are a bit more settled." I didn't bring up another logistical problem, thought it had certainly occurred to me: no one writes songs about recovering from rape and murder. "Anyway, I think he has a song he wants to sing for us."

Mercedes and Tina exchanged glances and giggled in tandem. "I think he has a song he wants to sing for someone, but I don't think it's the entire group."

I was going to have to drag both of them aside and let them know that they needed to cool it. This entire thing with Finn and I had to be kept under wraps, at least until after the trial. For the moment, I settled for shooting them evil looks. They seemed to get it and settled down.

School lets out at 2:40, which left more then an hour before Glee. Some of the guys were grabbing a quick snack, but I wasn't hungry. Instead I walked to the auditorium and sat down. I wasn't afraid that Donny would find me in here, since I'm pretty sure he has no idea that we even have an auditorium, much less that someone would enter it voluntarily.

The only lights on were the safety ones, and the stage was dark. But you don't get as far as I have without a pretty vivid imagination, and I had no trouble seeing all of us up there. First doing 'Don't Stop Believing' with the original six of us. Me sneaking looks over at Finn, who was trying to herd cats into a cohesive group. Then the school assembly where I got brave and smacked him on the ass. Singing 'Last Name' with April Rhodes, 'Proud Mary' in wheelchairs, 'True Colors' in multihued glory. The triple-cast horror that had been 'Run, Joey, Run.' And their very last time together, seeing Finn and Puck up there dressed as KISS and wild as could be. It's a beautiful mental picture of the pair.

There were other memories, of course, but Finn and Puck were suddenly gone from them. Rehearsing for our funeral songs. Singing 'Over the Rainbow' when we thought it was all over. Rachel and I on that stage one day, singing 'Faithfully' for the man we had both loved and lost.

In just few weeks, the group would be back up there again. Through an absolute miracle, we had gotten Finn back, but Puck was gone forever. Those images of the 12 of us that I had frozen in my brain would never be repeated, no matter where we went from here.

"It's strange to think that we'll have a group again. I thought for sure that we were done." I startled badly, twisting around to look at Rachel. She smiled wryly at me. "Sorry, I thought that you saw me."

"I guess I was caught up in my own thoughts." I was never quite sure how to take Rachel. In some ways, she was the enemy. She could be cruel and spiteful when you got in her way, and she usually took the solos I wanted. Plus, she was Finn's ex-girlfriend, and, if this hadn't happened, would probably be the one he was sleeping with now.

But there was another side to her, too. A side that had brought over plates of cookies and casseroles to the family during the first few weeks that Finn was missing. No one had had the time or inclination to cook, not even me, so she made sure we were fed. She was gentle with Finn now, and completely respectful of the limits he would set. She still flirted, but the 25 slide power point presentations about how they needed to get back together were a thing of the past.

I know that I don't always see her objectively, which is why I'm trying harder to be nice. The old me would have snipped at her, but the new one just nodded. "I'm glad we still have a group."

"We'll find a 12th person. I've already done some research, and I think we have some untapped resources."

"Who?" I had gone over this myself, but unless I wanted to try tapping the exchange students, most of whom couldn't speak English (and really, who in their right mind transfers to Lima, Ohio, anyway?), I couldn't think anyone who would want to join.

_Oh, come on now. I think you could actually manage to recruit quite a few people. After all, the Glee club has one very important thing that it never had before: a celebrity. Why bother trying to get Finn news out of you, when they can go in there and just ask him themselves? Sure, they're stuck with the club, but that's a small thing. After all, you have to pay an admission to get into the freak show at the fair, don't you?_

That had never occurred to me. Would someone really try to join Glee just to screw us over?

_Six words for you. Quinn Fabray, Santana Lopez, Brittany Pierce._

That was true. It had also turned out alright in the end. But I couldn't guarantee that that would happen again. More likely, someone would devastate us. But if we didn't get another person, we couldn't compete. It was a catch-22.

Rachel kept going, chattering happily. "Do you know that McKinley High has 292 incoming Freshman, plus 26 new students in the upper grades? That's 300 potential members right there. We just have to get to them before everyone else does."

I hadn't thought of that. "I guess that that is a good idea." Even though I was liking Rachel better, and trying very hard, it still came out sounding way too surprised. What can I say; I'm a work in progress.

"We'll have to be very careful, though. With Finn and Puck, the Glee club has attracted a lot of negative attention, and we need to ensure that no one tries out with bad intentions. Finn needs us to protect him."

There are times when I think that Rachel will eventually outsmart us all. She had thought of this long before I had, and was being watchful. "We can do it. What are you doing in here, anyway?"

"Just thinking." She looked at the stage, and I wondered what it was she saw when she thought about it. Did she think about singing Grease with Finn that first day? Imagine his hand in hers during 'Don't Stop Believing?' Did she think about standing on that same stage with Jesse, and mentally compare the two? Imagine stolen moments the two of them had shared under those lights?

"What are you thinking about?" I was actually having a give and take conversation with her. Despite our growing bond, I could count the number of times it had happened on my fingers. If we were only counting the ones where no one ended up screaming and storming off, I might have to reduce that counting on a single hand.

"I just keep seeing Finn and Puck doing KISS up there. Do you remember how pissed off both of us were that they wouldn't do Lady Gaga with us?"

Funny, I really hadn't. Now that she brought it up, I totally remembered my snark. "That wasn't one of our finer moments."

"He and I got into a fight about it. I told him that he was being a sexist jerk." Even though she was talking to me, she kept looking at the stage. I looked too, as if I would see their ghosts up there, locked in their argument. "He told me that I was just as bad, and why didn't I want to do KISS with them?"

"There are only five members of KISS." That wasn't the point, but I'm a stickler for the details.

"I said that, too. And he screamed back that there's only one Lady Gaga, and we were all doing her. So I told him that he just didn't get it and stormed out." She shook her head. "He didn't follow me."

No, he wouldn't have. When he's been pushed to the limit, Finn won't back down, and he certainly wouldn't beg for forgiveness. 10 minutes later, when his anger had cooled, he usually felt differently, but not in the heat of the moment.

Her story went a long way towards explaining his pissy fit in the basement, though. He had fought with Rachel, then come home and heard the exact same argument from me. No wonder he blew up over a moist towelette.

By the way? I am totally creeped out at how much Rachel and I sometimes have in common. It's not a flattering look for either one of us.

"In a way, he was kind of right. We screamed at Finn for being inflexible and refusing to leave his comfort zone, but then we did the same thing." She shook her head. "I wish I could take it back now."

I had thought about this, as well as every interaction that I had had with Finn in the previous six months, until the memories were grainy. "He was right and he was wrong. I think his reasons for refusing went deeper then ours, and it wouldn't have hurt him to think on that a little. But it's a moot point, now."

She smiled sadly. "I wish we had more pictures of it. Or of any of our songs. That yearbook picture might be the only one of us all together."

That was probably true. We were a group, but a group that was made up of lots of little groups. I could probably find a dozen pictures of Finn with Rachel, and a ton of me with Mercedes or Tina. Quinn, Brittany, and Santana probably had an entire photo album. But I'll be there wasn't a single picture of me with Mike or Matt. Or one of Finn with Mercedes. And getting everyone in frame and smiling for a group picture? Yeah, right.

"We'll get some more this year." Before I could expand on that thought, my phone beeped, telling me it was 3:30. Time to head to the side entrance of the school and wait for Carole and Finn. "I'll see you in the Choir room."

She had to know where I was going, but she was kind enough to let me go in peace. "Bye, Kurt."

"Bye." Even though I knew that football practice was running right now and I should be safe, I still took a minute to look both ways and make sure that I was safe. Except for a few members of the debate club that were hanging out near the water fountain, the halls were empty. The bell created a mass stampede to leave around here, and all of the other clubs had started 45 minutes before.

I was a few minutes early, but I could already see Carole's car. Figures moved inside, and I saw Carole point at me. The passenger side door opened and Finn stepped out, looking worried as always.

I didn't call out to him, not wanting to attract any extra attention. He came right to me, no hesitation and no fear. In fact, he was smiling happily. "Hey, Kurt."

"Hey, yourself. How was your morning?" I herded him into the building ahead of me, giving Carole a quick wave good-bye.

"Same old, same old." He was alert, but still under control. "I finished the book and your Dad did one of the geography tests with me. I don't really get why we have to memorize all those stupid maps of Europe, though. It's easier to just look it up on the computer."

Personally, I agreed with him, but letting him know that would just convince him that he didn't need to even try. "You have to memorize them, because one day all technology might fail and you would have no computer to look it up on."

Finn was unimpressed. "If all the technology fails, I don't think that my first problem is going to be finding Latvia on a map. It's probably going to be getting food."

His first priority was always going to be getting food. Instead of arguing the point with him, though, I pointed to the folder in his hand. "What's in there?"

He tucked it protectively to his chest. "My music."

So he was going to sing for us after all. I didn't bother asking for the song, since he had refused to tell me so far, and it would only be a few more minutes.

"Finn!" Brittany raced out of the Choir room and threw herself into his arms. He hugged her back grinning like a madman. "Where have you been? I miss having you in class."

"I've been at home. That's where I go to school for now." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her into the room.

"For how long?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "Not forever. Probably not even all year."

Conversation broke off there so that everyone else could welcome Finn back with hugs and fist bumps. I was momentarily forgotten as he refamiliarized himself with his friends. It was good, but it made me sad as well. The more Finn moved back into the world, less he would need me. Maybe soon he wouldn't need me at all.

Everyone was talking at once, and it started getting a little confusing. Mr. Shuester was late, and, despite Rachel's best efforts to get us under control, it just wasn't happening. In the past, Finn would have probably stepped in, but he wasn't speaking up now. Either he wasn't sure of his place here any more, or he was way too distracted by Artie's enthusiastic description of some video game.

It was nearly 4 by the time Mr. Shue came in. The look of rage on his face when he first came though the door told me that something was going wrong already. It could be Principal Figgins, but it was more likely that Coach Sylvester had done something. As soon as he saw Finn, though, he softened. "Hey Finn, I'm glad you were able to join us."

"Glad to be here." Finn smiled at him.

"Alright, you guys. Everyone find a seat and let's talk about how we're going to take Regionals this year." Mr. Shue too his usual place leaning against the piano.

"Not with only 11 people" It's like Santana just can't let anyone be happy for even a few minutes.

"We'll get someone else. It's just a matter of keeping positive." He wans't going to let her drag him down.

"Oh, I'm positive." She let it go there, but the point had been made.

"Santana, quit being a bitch." To my shock, it was Finn who had spoken up. While he might call someone out in a fit of rage, this calm correction was new. "You don't have to spoil everyone else's day."

She snorted but said nothing else. Mr. Shue smirked, though I have to give him credit for at least trying to cover it with his hand. "Finn, please watch the language. Didn't you have a song you wanted to perform for us?"

"Yep." Finn jumped up and handed his music over to Brad, who arranged it quickly on the piano. "So, um, yeah. Mr. Shue helped me with this."

The opening strains were kind of familiar, but in a generic way. Finn cocked his head, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. For the first time in six months, he was able to perform for an audience. His voice was soft when he first began, but he was confident in a way I hadn't seen before.

_It's hard for me, to say the things,_

_I want to say sometimes._

_There's no one here, but you and me_

_And that broken old streetlight_

_Lock the doors_

_We'll leave the world outside_

_All I've got, to give to you, _

_Are these five words tonight_

_Thank you, for loving me_

_For being my eyes_

_When I couldn't see_

_For parting my lips,_

_When I couldn't breathe_

_Thank you, for loving me_

_Thank you, for loving me_

_I never knew I had a dream_

_Until that dream was you_

_When I look into your eyes_

_The sky's a different blue_

_Cross my heart_

_I wear no disguise_

_If I tried, you'd make believe_

_That you believed my lies_

_You pick me up when I fall down_

_You ring the bell before they count me out_

_If I was drowning you'd part the sea_

_And risk you own life to rescue me_

_Lock the doors_

_We'll leave the world outside_

_All I've got to give to you_

_Are these five words tonight_

_Thank you, for loving me_

_For being my eyes_

_When I couldn't see_

_For parting my lips_

_When I couldn't breathe_

_Thank you, for loving me_

_Thank you, for loving me_

The song was for everyone, but he never once took his eyes off of me. Despite how many times he had told me that I was important and special to him, this was a level of commitment that I hadn't expected, though I had certainly hoped for.

_It's still not an 'I love you'_

No. It was far better. No one else seemed to notice what was happening, probably because they were more focused on the 'thank you' part of the song then the implications. Except, of course, for Rachel, who looked like an orgasm might be imminent.

Everyone applauded enthusiastically as Finn took his seat nest to me. I rubbed his shoulder and whispered. "That was great."

"Thanks." He smiled shyly at everyone. "That was it, guys. No more."

Everyone laughed, and a thin layer of ice shattered between all of us. Finn was still Finn, with all of his goofy awkwardness. Maybe he was a little quieter, and a little sadder, but we still knew him.

"Wonderful job, Finn. What we're going to do here is just start planning out some songs, and worry about recruitment later." I had to give him credit for appearing calm and in control, when we all knew that if we didn't get someone soon, we were sunk.

Rachel, of course, had several color coded binders filled with suggestions for solo songs, group numbers, and every imaginable combination of both male and female voices. This must have taken her days, if not weeks to organize.

_Girl needs to get laid._

That was undoubtedly true, but I had to admire the way she took charge, stunning the rest of us into compliance with the Blitzkrieg of music. Almost before I knew what was happening, we were all singing 'Empire State of Mind' together.

It was the first time we had all sung together since Puck's funeral and it was surprising how easily we fell right back into old patterns. Even Finn had melded seamlessly back into the group.

Every one of us was disappointed when 5:30 rolled around and it was time to leave. Sure, we hadn't done much, but it was a small step in things becoming normal again.

Once Finn and I were in the car to go home, though, I had to revise that thought. To me, and probably most of the rest of the club, today had been a small thing. To Finn, it was enormous. He had gotten out of the house and returned to the place in Lima where he was most likely to be haunted by Puck's ghost. He had confronted the rest of the Glee club, knowing full well that he wasn't the same person he had been the last time we all stood together in this room.

He was feeling it as well. Without speaking a word, he slowly tapped out a rhythm on the dashboard, his focus solely on his task. I listened with half an ear, trying to figure out the song from the muffled thumps. Nothing. Whatever Finn was doing, it made sense only in his own head.

I slid a hand off the wheel and rested it on the center console, palm up. An invitation, not a summons. Finn cut his eyes over at it, but didn't move. I waited patiently. I wasn't going to argue, and I certainly wasn't capable of out-stubborning him, but I could always offer some quiet support.

We were more then halfway home when he slipped his hand into mine. "I really miss Puck. He would have….." He trailed off there with a shrug. Whether he didn't know or just didn't feel like sharing, I was getting the feeling that it was going to be a quiet night at home.

Which it was. Oh, it wasn't that Finn didn't talk. He talked our ears off all through dinner, and followed Carole around for a good two hours afterwards, still chirping away. We all heard about the Glee rehearsal, and that his song had gone well (though he wisely refused a repeat performance), and pretty much every other thought that could possibly enter his head. Three times. His hyped up talking was almost more disturbing then his silence had been.

Even with all of his chatter, though, he really wasn't saying much. He didn't mention whether or not it was hard for him to go back to the school, didn't talk about missing Puck, didn't worry about missing Glee practice for the trial. Just on and on and on about the minutiae of his day.

None of us were sure what to do about it, so we just let him go without pushing the issue. Luckily, Finn wore out about 9, and crashed before 10. I puttered around for a while, finishing up some homework and picking up some of Finn's mess. How one person can create such a disaster zone in a single day is a mystery that may never be fully solved.

I gave the rats each a quick scratch, something I wouldn't do in front of Finn. I was actually fond of the little guys now, but I had to have something to complain about when I can't think of anything else.

Finn was in the middle of the bed, heavy and limp. I tickled him lightly, and he rolled over to his own side. I kissed the back of his neck. "Night, Cowboy."

I was woken up a few hours later when something slammed into my body, throwing me backwards. I was hit again in the shoulder, making me shriek and roll off the bed. My elbow smashed into the floor. What the hell was happening?

Finn had bolted upright in bed, his eyes wide and reflecting in the dark. His breathing was loud and harsh. Then it stopped entirely, plunging the basement into silence. I had to clear my throat twice before I could make a sound. "Finn? Are you ok?"

He screamed. Over and over, the sounds echoing off the walls and making it sound like a madhouse.

I tried to get up and soothe him, but I couldn't move. I was ashamed of myself, but I was also very, very scared. When he was awake and aware, Finn was very gentle and in control. When he was like this, though, he could easily hurt me without realizing it. Dad's black eye was fresh in my mind. What would Finn do to me?

That didn't stop me from trying to call his name, though. "Finn! Finn, it's alright. You're safe baby, it's alright."

I got a stream of broken gibberish in response. Was I supposed to try and wake him up? Or was this like a sleepwalking episode, where waking him up would just make things worse?

The basement was suddenly flooded with light. "Kurt, Finn, what the hell is going on?"

Finn was so loud that he had woken out parents two floors up. I scrambled to my feet and barreled at them. "He won't wake up!" They could fix this. I had tried, but they were the adults here and they would know what to do. Sometimes it was better to let someone with experience handle these things.

If I was afraid to touch Finn right now, Carole wasn't. She strode confidently down the stairs and climbed onto the bed. "Finn, stop." Her voice was gentle.

Dad and I both held our breaths, but Finn didn't react violently and he didn't scream again. He was still muttering nonsense, his eyes hugely dilated and black, but he allowed her to gather him into her arms. "Be calm, Sweetie. You're safe, you're safe."

I had said the exact same thing, but it actually had an effect this time. Finn curled into her, going silent and burying his face in her neck. Dad tugged on my shoulder. "Come on upstairs, kiddo."

Normally, I would have protested, but I did kind of feel like I was intruding on a private moment. I let Dad lead me up the stairs and into the kitchen, where he made two mugs of warm milk. I took one, the liquid sloshing a bit as my hands shook. Now that my adrenaline was wearing down, it was all hitting me hard.

He noticed. "Are you ok, Kurt? What happened?"

I forced myself not to start crying. "I think he had a nightmare, but I couldn't get him to wake up." I strained my ears, but still heard nothing coming from the basement. Carole must have managed to calm him down.

_Of course she did. She's his mother, and he knows her. Even in the middle of a total freak-out, he knows. Her voice, her touch, her smell, that's all comfort and safety to him. One day, things will be like that for the pair of you, too._

Dad shook his head. "Sounded like someone was killing him." He hugged me again. "It scared me, so I know it scared you. Are you alright?"

Was I? My chest hurt from where Finn had lashed out, and my elbow was throbbing where from smashing into the floor. Beyond that, though, my heart felt crushed. Every time Finn took a step forward, something like this happened. "I think so."

Carole came back upstairs, looking exhausted. "He's out."

"Did he say what happened?" Dad offered her his untouched mug.

"No, he never really woke up. He's had night terrors like that before, but not for a few years." Her hand came out to gently pat my back. "It's alright, Kurt. Finn's fine and he won't even remember this in the morning. If it happens again, come get me right away."

I started to say something, but was interrupted by red and blue lights flashing through the windows. There were no sirens, but two police cars were pulling into the driveway. Dad startled. "What the hell?"

He opened the door before they could knock. "Can I help you?"

We must have been a rather motley crew. I was in a nice pair of dark blue pajamas, but Carole was in an old nightgown and Dad in just his boxer shorts and a hastily thrown on T-shirt. At this point, though, we knew every officer in Lima, so no one said anything.

It was Officer Ryan who spoke. "We received a 911 call that someone was possibly hurt at this address. Someone heard screaming."

It took a minute to settle in. The police were at our house because Finn had been screaming so loudly that the neighbors had actually heard him. Yes, the windows were open, but he had actually been that loud and panicked-sounding.

Carole rested her forehead in her hands. "Finn had a night terror and was screaming. I guess he was louder then we thought he was."

All of the police officers liked Finn. He was often at the station, clarifying things and giving statements. Like most people, they were charmed by his sweet awkwardness and pleasant demeanor during questioning. Carole was forever getting compliments on the good kid she had raised.

That pleasant demeanor usually fell apart shortly after leaving the station. No matter what he pretended, both being at the station and answering questions were traumatic, and he could only hold himself together for so long. The therapist said it was actually good thing that he felt safe enough, even with Dad around, to let go and have a tantrum, but it didn't make it much easier to deal with.

"Look, I believe you totally, but if I leave without at least seeing Finn, and it turns out something is really wrong, it's my butt on the line. Can we just talk to him for a minute?"

"He's sleeping and I don't know if I can wake him up. But one of you can go down and take a look at him if you're quiet. _One_ of you, and I'm going with." At this point, there are battles that our family is willing to fight, and battles that we aren't, and this one just wasn't worth it.

Officer Ryan nodded and followed her down the basement stairs to make sure Finn was still alive and breathing. The rest of us stood awkwardly, not sure what to do or say. Yep, guys, this was what our lives were like. Finn's suffering didn't magically end because he was home, or because his abuser was in jail. No matter what the outcome of the trial, Finn had already received a life sentence.

They were back in less then a minute. "Thank you, Carole. I'm sorry to have disturbed all of you"

The only thing disturbed around here was Finn, but no one wanted to say that. We all just gave him weak smiles and promised to have Finn back to the station in a few days for trial prep.

My milk was barely warm now, more like milk that had been left sitting out too long, and I could barely get the last few swallows down. Of course, there wasn't much room around the giant lump in my throat, either.

Carole stroked a hand down my back. "Are you ok, Sweetie? You can go back down there, or I'll set you up on the couch for the night. He'll probably stay down for the rest of the night, but I'm not positive. It's been really long time since this has happened."

I didn't want to spend the night on the couch. I could clear some things off of Finn's bed, and sleep there, or get back in with him and take the risk. "I'll go back downstairs."

We said out goodnights, and I trudged back down the stairs. It wasn't that I was afraid of Finn any more, or that I thought he would hurt me. It was just that I was tired. Physically exhausted, yes, but it was more then that. I was sick of this. Sick of the police, and the uncertainty, and everything revolving around one stupid choice that Finn and Puck had made more then six months before.

I hate it when I feel like this, because it's so unproductive and selfish. If I hate the police being here all the time, I can't imagine how Finn feels every time he's drug to the station for another round of humiliating questions. If I'm sick of the uncertainty, it's a million times worse for him, because he knows that a murderer and rapist could be let back out on the streets. And if I was upset about a decision that had been made, at least I didn't have the live with the guilt of being the one who made it and let my best friend get killed.

Finn had it worse then I did in aspects of this case, except for one major one: he was allowed to break down. Finn could cry, and refuse to talk, and have nightmares, and everyone accepted it as ok. We had to be gentle with him, and expect less from him, at least for now. It was fair, but it wasn't.

Even though I still hurt from where he had hit me before, I climbed into bed with Finn, rather then use the empty bed. He was breathing deeply and quietly, with no signs that he had been hysterical a half hour before. I rested my hand on his back, counting his breaths and willing him to wake up and tell me that my thoughts weren't as terrible and selfish and I knew they really were.

He didn't move, and I ended up rolling over and crying myself to sleep.

I was disturbed thate


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N: Would anyone like to see something from Finn's POV? After so much silence, he's suddenly become very chatty.**

_**So many times life is unpredictable. You have good days, and bad days, and, in the end, all that matters is who is still there, by your side**_

_**Author Unknown**_

I found it hard to believe that, after all of this time, Finn doesn't own a suit. He had the one that he had worn to the Fabray's that night, the one that had once belonged to his father, but that wasn't enough for this. Though I'm sure that it would be a comfort to him to have something of his fathers, court is formal and requires something fancier.

I happen to have six suits, but nothing I own would come even remotely close to fitting Finn, so it was off to go shopping. Finn submitted limply to the entire procedure, clearly wishing he was anywhere but in this store, getting poked and prodded.

In an effort to make this as a painless as possible, I took all of Finn's measurements at home so as minimize the need for strangers to touch him. Still, it was just another reminder to Finn of what was coming with the trial.

Finn was very quiet in the store, though he did respond to my questions. Granted, it was in a monotone and with as few words as possible, but he was still talking. Both Carole and Dad had bowed to my superior fashion knowledge and allowed me to choose his outfit.

"Are you going to be in a wedding, Finn?" The employee who was helping us was doing his best to draw Finn out of his quiet misery. He already knew that it wasn't a funeral, since I had immediately steered Finn away from that section of the store.

"No."

Finn held his arms out at his sides so I could check the fit of the suit. It was a routine we had perfected over the last four suits that had to be rejected for one reason or another. Normally, I wouldn't be this picky with Finn's clothing (though far pickier with my own), but this was a special occasion. People would notice his clothing first, and you only get one first impression. I couldn't control what questions were asked up there, nor could I control how Finn responded to them. All I could do was make sure he was appropriately dressed and that I was there to support him. "No, I don't like the way that one hangs. We need to go up a size in the jacket."

I turned back to my 'maybe' rack, just in time to hear Finn announce. "I'm going to court. Someone might get the death penalty." His voice was chipper.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Why was it that Finn suddenly had to start telling people things like that, after so many months of silence on the matter? It was embarrassing to have him pop out with things like that to a complete stranger.

_Really? Is that really why it bothers you? Because I think that embarrassment is the least of your worries_.

Ok, no, it wasn't the embarrassment that got to me. What really bothered me about Finn saying these things was the look on his face when he did it. It was an almost gleeful look, something that made his eyes light up when he did it. Finn _liked_ shocking people, and then watching them scramble for the right thing to say to him. Especially when he knew full well that there _was_ no right thing to say.

Sure enough, the employee stuttered and looked at me for help. I shrugged at him, because I wasn't sure how to handle it either. "Umm…I'm sorry to hear that, Finn."

"Oh, it's ok. I'm hoping he gets death." Again, he was pert, like he was politely answering any other condolence.

It was…..honestly, it was a little cruel, which was something Finn had never been before. He knew that he was putting people on the spot like this made them uncomfortable, but he kept right on doing it. I grabbed the closest suit and brought it over. Using the clothing for camouflage, I reached over and pinched him as hard as I could in the side. He jolted, and I hissed "Stop it." at him.

His eyes narrowed, but he did shut up and take the suit I handed him. "Try that one, Finn."

"Fine." His tone was short, but I could deal with it. Cranky Finn was at least a known enemy, and could usually be soothed with a fair amount of ease and cola. Quiet, manipulative Finn was something different and I didn't have the time to puzzle him out.

Once he had disappeared back into the dressing room, I gave the employee a shrug. "Sorry about him."

"It's fine." He probably wanted to say more, or, at the very least, ask if Finn was telling the truth, but he didn't. He just moved on in a professional manner that I hoped to be able to emulate some day. "Do you want to stay with a white shirt under the jacket, or would you like a few samples of color?"

If it was up to me, I would add some color, but I shook my head. "No, I think white is more appropriate for court."

"I don't want to wear a black suit. I want a blue one instead." Finn was contrary and determined to take it out on me.

I don't play that game with him. "No. You will wear a black suit to show your respect for the judge and his position. This is not up for debate."

He shrugged, but he didn't bring it up again. At my command, he put his arms up, twirled and stepped from side to side. "I think this one is acceptable. Change back as long as it feels ok on you."

It still wasn't the best, but it did look good on him, and I could tell that he was done with today. Sure enough, he shrugged tiredly. "It's fine."

"Are you sure? Because this is well made and you should be able to wear it for at least 10 years." I was going to have to justify the expense to Dad and Carole somehow.

"I'm sure." He marched back to the dressing room, the very picture of dejected fury. How someone can manage to put those two opposing ideas together so smoothly is just another one of Finn's many mysteries.

I turned to the employee, who was probably thanking more then one god that we were leaving. "We just need a white shirt and a black tie and I think that we'll be done. Thank you so much for your assistance."

He nodded and gave me a smile that almost seemed genuine. "It was my pleasure to help you two. I hope everything goes well for you and your boyfriend in court.

It was the first time that an outsider had pegged Finn as my boyfriend. "Thank you, but he's not my boyfriend. Finn is my soon-to-be-stepbrother."

"Oh. I just assumed because of the way you were together." He colored slightly. "My apologies."

"It's no problem." Inside, though, I was in turmoil. If it was obvious to a complete stranger that Finn and I were together, it wouldn't take much for a trained lawyer to figure it out.

Finn reappeared, dressed in a ratty T-shirt and jeans. For the first time in a long time, he had refused to let me dress him this morning, instead choosing the most disgusting outfits he owned. He's starting to play these control games again, and it's only going to get worse until the trial was over.

It was easy to get irritated with him, but I have to be sympathetic, too. Between going back to Glee, and knowing he would be seeing Joseph again, and the trial, he was under an enormous amount of stress and handling it the best that he could. I paid, using the credit card that Dad had given me specifically for things like this, and handed Finn the bag. "Ready to go get some lunch?"

He softened slightly, though I could still see some tremors racing up and down his arms. "Ok. Thank you very much for helping us, Chad. You were awesome."

Sometimes he surprises me. Despite being in an utter temper snit, he had taken the time to get the employee's name, which I hadn't.

"Just doing my job. I hope court goes well for you."

"It will." Again, he pulled off the confident devil-may-care attitude that had nothing to do with his true feelings. "Thanks again."

He was tense when I patted his back, but he didn't shy away from my touch. "Let's take this out to the car, and then we can get some lunch. How does that sound?'

"Yeah." He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. "Thank you for taking me shopping."

I tried to lighten the mood during lunch by talking about Glee and what songs we might like to do. Finn was rather entranced with the idea of a mash-up of Journey songs, and participated happily in puzzling out which songs to use. I've long since suspected that Finn knows far too much 80's music, and this just proved it to me. "You need to learn some music from this decade, Finn."

"Like that Lady Gaga dude you love so much?" His eyes were laughing, even if his face was still.

He knew full well that Lady Gaga was a woman, but I didn't call him on it. Now that the hard part of the day was over and he had some food in his belly, his mood was improving. "Yes, exactly like Lady Gaga. Or Beyonce. Or even the Backstreet Boys. Something."

"You have your music, I have mine. That's why we have headphones." But he was grinning at me when he said it. "Can I have a bite of your wrap?"

I handed it over, pleased that he had calmed down. As bad as he can be sometimes with his sulking, Finn really has matured a lot from where he was this time last year. He doesn't fly off the handle like he used to, and I haven't seen him kick anything over since he came back. A year ago my pushing him on his musical choices would have earned a snappy reply, if not an outright shove, but he remained calm and collected. Maybe he would have been the same way if none of this had happened, but I somehow doubted it.

"Remind me again what happens at court." Hearing the story over and over had become a comfort to Finn.

"You don't have to be there every day if you don't want to. When it's your turn to testify, the prosecution will talk to you first. They can ask you whatever they want. You have to answer, but you can take your time. Don't let them make you upset or push you into saying anything you shouldn't. Answer the question they ask and don't add anything. You don't have to justify yourself for any reason."

"Samantha said to count to four before I answered the questions."

"Right. Remember, the prosecution is on your side. After they ask all of their questions, the defense gets a chance. They're the ones you're going to have to be careful of."

"Because they're on his side. Josephs." Finn always felt like he had to clarify that, as if I wouldn't know who he was talking about.

"Right. They'll have a chance to ask questions. They might even ask the same questions, but twisted a little to make you look bad. Make sure that you count to at least four for any of their questions. Then the prosecution gets a chance to do damage control by talking to you again, and then you're done."

He picked at his sleeve. "How long will it take?"

"I don't know, Sweetheart. It shouldn't be longer then a day, though." I tried to sound pert, even though I had my suspicions that it would be much longer then a single day. Finn was the star witness here, the only one who had been present for everything that happened. He was also the one who might fall apart on the witness box if pushed hard enough. Depending on how he performed, he was going to be gold for one side or the other.

Finn didn't want to shop once we had eaten, not even at the Game Stop or other places he enjoyed, so I went ahead and turned the car towards home. After 10 minutes or so of silence, Finn reached over and tugged on my sleeve. "Hey, Kurt?"

"What?"

"Do I look hot in my suit?" He grinned sassily, and I had to chuckle.

"You look hot in just about everything. That T-shirt, though? Finn, no. It looks like a family of moths have colonized the neckline."

He heaved a long-suffering sigh. "I know. But it's one of my favorites and there aren't any big holes in it."

That didn't make it any less of an atrocity. "What about if I bought you a new one, exactly like that one? That ones faded as well."

"But then it wouldn't be my shirt. It would be like mine, but not." His voice picked up a slight edge that told me to back off. He was tired and miserable and had performed admirably for a task that he hated today.

"Ok. Work on keeping your voice calm, even when you're frustrated, because that's something they'll look at in court." I kept my own voice steady and nonjudgmental.

"I _am_ working on it." But he did soften the bite. "Can we hang out downstairs when we get home? I want to watch a movie."

'I want to watch a movie' was Finn-code for 'I want to make-out'. Unless, of course, some ridiculous action movie had just been released. Then it just meant he wanted to watch a movie. Not that he couldn't be swayed to the making out side of things, but I usually had to sit through 45 minutes of a terrible movie before it could happen. "I think we can make movie time happen."

"Cool." He braced both hands on the center console and leaned forward to give me a rough kiss on the cheek. Then he licked my jaw and laughed.

"Down, Rover." My skin tingled from where he had touched me.

He complied, though not without an overly dramatic sigh to let me know how mean I was. I rolled my eyes, but, inwardly, my body was thrumming like a live wire. Every time Finn did this, my heart started skipping beats. How far would he go this time? And what would the consequences be if things got pushed too far?

Because he was getting braver. More and more, he wanted to touch my body. Not in the obvious place, but he liked running his hands up and down my sides, or over my chest and stomach. He was also willing to let me touch his, though, again, I had to keep my hands away from certain places.

_It's called a penis. Peeee-niiiis. You could even say groin if the word penis offends you so much. How are you going to convince Finn that his body isn't dirty and wrong if you aren't convinced that about your own? He's not stupid, and he knows that you're ambiguous._

I knew that. I was scared to push Finn, but he was just as frightened to push me. He hasn't said it, but I think he's nervous that he won't be able to read the signs that I want to slow down or stop, and he'll end up raping me, the way Joseph did to him. That would never actually happen, but I understand why he's afraid it might.

That usually left us in a holding pattern of getting each other incredibly frustrated, but nothing ever coming of it except one of us having to slink off to the bathroom for a little pressure relief. The other one (usually Finn) was left to take care of it on the bed. Then we would do something else and pretend that it had never happened.

Finn was looking at me differently today, which made my stomach clench in anticipation. He looked far more relaxed then usual, though there was still something that held him a little apart from me.

True to form, Finn headed for the fridge to get a drink as soon as we walked in the door. Our electricity has become sky-high from him opening that fridge door 1000 time a day, and then not actually taking anything out. He just likes looking at the food.

Still, he was hot on my heels as I went downstairs to hang his new suit up. I'm taller now, but he still seemed to loom over me when he leaned down to kiss the back of my neck. "Thank you for taking me shopping today. I know that you'll make me look good for the trial."

Compliments were the fastest way to turn me on, and his words had their desired effect. The way he kissed my skin, so gently that it felt like butterfly wings, didn't hurt either. I twisted so I could kiss him back, using my body to nudge him over to the bed. For some reason, making out on the bed seemed much….classier, then doing it against a wall. It probably wasn't, but I couldn't help but perceive it that way.

Finn is obsessed with my collarbones, something I'm more then happy to let him indulge in. Who would have thought that it would feel so good for him to lightly bite there?

I was so distracted by what his mouth was doing that I nearly jumped off the bed when his hand pressed down on my stomach, fingers splayed dangerously lower. He looked up, our eyes locked. "Can I?"

There was no doubt in my mind what he was asking. I was too startled and choked up to answer, so he tried again. "Kurt? Can I?"

What did I say now? Of course he could, and I wanted him to, but should I let him after what had happened last time? It was a tough choice, and the lack of blood flow to my brain wasn't helping matters any.

_This isn't a matter for your brain. What is your heart saying?_

I forced myself to search Finn's expectant face. In sharp contrast to the earlier incident, where he had been almost aggressive with his actions, he was shy and uncertain. This was an actual question, as opposed to him wanting to prove something to both me and himself. He was clearly nervous, but isn't everyone the first time? "Go ahead."

My voice squeaked, which let him know that I was as nervous as he was. He grinned and slid down, pressing his hand over the front of pants and against my erection. Other then that last time, no one had ever touched me like that. He kissed my lips again, slowly moving his hand back and forth, grinding in. He was very light at first, then harder as he gained some confidence. He kissed me again and again. "Is this good?"

He wanted me to form words? I could barely breathe, and my…my….my…..holy shit! Much to my horror, I came hard in my pants with only a few touches from him. Finn gentled me through it, easing up and dropping his head so he could kiss me. I was as...uh…yeah, I couldn't even think.

It must have been a good 45 seconds before I became aware of the fact that Finn was watching me with a worried look on his face. I smiled at him, and he smiled back. "Was that ok?"

I tugged his shirt until he was lying next to me. "That was perfect."

"I didn't hurt you? You're ok?" He had to know.

"I'm ok, and you didn't hurt me." I rubbed his shoulder until some of the tension eased out. "You're not like him."

That was the problem here. Even more then Finn seems to fear me doing something to hurt him, he fears that he'll so something to hurt or frighten me. He wants my first times to be wonderful, because his hadn't been. I wasn't afraid of that at all, but once Finn gets his mind on something, it can be very hard to change it.

His eyes searched mine, and I knew that he was trying to ferret out a lie. What he found must have satisfied him, because he broke into a natural smile. One arm snaked out and wrapped around me. The difference between today and the last time we tried this was amazing.

_See? You worried and worried, and it was all for nothing. When Finn was ready, he was ready and the only one who could know that was him. No fuss, no drama._

Speaking of Finn…I gathered my courage. "Do you want me to…." I couldn't say what I wanted to, so I just kind of gestured down at his groin.

"No." It came out very quickly, but not harshly. "Not this time."

I hastened to soothe the trapped look back out of his eyes. "That's fine. You let me know when you want me to."

"Ok. Can I have the bathroom first, please?" He swallowed hard when he spoke, still looking discombobulated.

"Of course. Just throw out a wet washcloth for me. _Warm_ water, Finn, not cold like last time."

The washcloth didn't appear for several minutes. Though, if what I saw in his pants was any indication, he had more pressing matters to attend to. Sure enough, when he emerged a few minutes later, he looked flushed and guilty, but in significantly less discomfort. He handed me the washcloth, which I no longer needed. Since the bathroom was now free, I could just go clean up in there. I grabbed a pair of pajama bottoms and crept off to deal with my shame in private.

Finn was already humming a song under his breath, looking inordinately pleased with himself. But, then, why shouldn't he? He had made me lose control of myself, while still sitting pretty.

_Exactly. Believe it or not, this is what Finn needs. Right now, he needs this control of your sexual encounters. It proves to him that you won't resort to pressure or force to get what you want. It also proves that you're offering him control of your own free will, and that he won't be tempted to abuse that trust. For something this huge, I think you can put up with a little embarrassment and one pair of ruined pants._

I hadn't really thought of it that way, but it made sense. Still, I had to wince as I pulled my pants and boxer shorts off. I'm not a fan of bodily fluids of any kind, and semen has to be one of the worst. Cold, sticky, and it leaves stains everywhere. It's just repulsive.

Once I had done a quick clean-up and splashed some water on my face, I poked my head back out. "Finn? Do you need anything?"

He was already up and settled in front of the television so he could play some video games. It wouldn't have been that long ago that would have thought that Finn didn't care about what had happened between us at all, since he seemed to be moving on to the next thing so quickly, but now I know that that isn't true.

Actually, Finn's total focus on the game told me that he cared a great deal about what had just happened. A lot of the time when Finn appeared to be zoned out in front of a game, he was really doing a lot of thinking. It was almost like meditation, just with more explosions and turtle shells.

He had folded himself up in the swinging chair, but we've long since figured out how to both fit. I snuggled in and tucked my head against his neck. He didn't look at me, but he did rest his cheek on top of my head. "Do you want to switch to something else so you can play, too?"

"No, it's alright. You do your thing." I didn't push for him to talk about what had happened. He was going to get enough of that on Tuesday.

Close to an hour had passed and I was nearly asleep on his shoulder before Finn came out of his light and sound induced coma. "Are you ready to testify?"

That was right; I was going to have to testify as well. While Finn was the main witness for the prosecution, I was supposed to appear as well. I was the one who could testify to Finn's mental state right after he came back, because I had been the only one who knew him Before. The doctors and nurses that had taken care of him at the hospital didn't know that the quiet, fearful person they were seeing was miles away from the wild, outgoing guy that I had known a few months before. Carole and Dad were on standby to be called as well. It was a full family affair, just like something out of Jerry Springer.

I didn't let any of my turmoil show. Finn tends to take his cues off of the people around him, and my staying calm would help get him keep his cool as well. "I think so. I'm nervous, but how bad can it be? I'll just use your idea of counting to four before I answer anything."

"I'm kind of nervous about seeing them again. I don't want them to be mad at me or anything." He didn't look at me when he spoke. That was probably good, because there was no hiding the shock on my face. They had stolen him, killed Puck and both sexually assaulted him more then once and he was worried about making them angry by bringing them to justice?

It took some force, but I managed to make my face blank by the time he looked up. Whether or not I agreed with, or even understood, them, Finn's feelings were his own, and thus valid. If I jumped on him now, he would be afraid to bring things like this to my attention in the future. So I probed gently. "Are you afraid that they'll do something to hurt you?"

"No. I know that they can't do anything to me now." He rubbed his cheek against the top of my head, a sure sign that he was stressed out.

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know!" His voice tightened in a way that told me he knew exactly what the problem was.

It's a fine line to walk, this edge between helping Finn sort out his conflicting feelings and putting words in his mouth. He likes for people to be happy with him, and a lot of the time he would just agree with whatever you offered to get you off of his back. "Why don't you take a few minutes to think about it? You know I just want to help you."

Hearing for the millionth time that we're on the same side usually calms him down, and I felt Finn's body lose some of its tension. Without a word, he got up and switched games, putting in Mario Kart racing and handing me the second controller. This was his way of telling me that he wanted to be close to me, and play along side me, even if he didn't want to directly interact with me right now. This way, he didn't feel pressured by me looking at him and waiting for an answer, either.

"I don't want them to hate me. Lily only asked me to do one thing, and that was not tell anyone their names. But I did. If they had known that I would tattle, they would have killed me. I made a promise, and then _you_ made me break it!" His voice was low, but held a hint of a snarl that made me back up a bit.

No, I hadn't. I had never pushed Finn to tell me more then he was comfortable with, even that first night when he had started talking again. I had been patient the entire time he wasn't talking, even when I wanted to just shake him until he spilled his secrets. Well, not perfectly patient, I made a few mistakes, but I think I did pretty well.

A year ago, I would have told Finn that. Loudly, and using a bunch of words that he had no chance of understanding. His inability to form a come-back that didn't involve him kicking things over and a temper snit would have proven that, once again, I was right and he was wrong.

What a difference a year makes. Now that I'm living with Finn, it's easier to see that he's perfectly capable of coming up with an answer if you're patient enough to wait for it. When he's pushed, though, he panics and lashes out.

So I try to give him some extra time to sort out what he wants to say instead of steamrolling over him. It's the reason I have Finn now and Rachel doesn't. He's never said that in so many words, but he does talk about how much he likes that I listen to him and don't tell him that he's an idiot like all of his girlfriends used to. I must be doing something right. Instead of screaming, I just fixed him with a level look. "Is that true?"

By asking him a question rather then telling him that he was wrong, I took some of the pressure off. He sighed heavily and dropped his head. "No. You didn't make me do anything. I broke the promise all by myself."

"No one should ever ask you to promise anything that makes you or someone else unsafe. If you didn't tell, then they would have hurt someone else. Ok? They were wrong to ask you to make that promise, and you shouldn't feel obligated to keep it." There was a deeper issue here, and I still wasn't seeing it.

"You think I'm really stupid, don't you?" He rubbed the back of his neck. "They were wrong, and bad, and evil. I should want them to burn in hell, and I really, really, do. I just don't want to be the one who sends them to jail. They weren't always mean to me, you know."

Like any abused child, Finn was still trying to find some positives in his situation. It had been terrible, but it had also been his life for four months. I had to remember that sometimes the only thing I had to do was offer some quiet support. This wasn't a problem that I could be expected to solve. "I know. But this is about more then just what happened with you and them. You have to think about the safety of every person in America. We both know that they hurt other kids, and probably killed them. You have a chance that they didn't."

"I'm tired of thinking about everyone else." I had never heard him sound so defeated. "Even if I have to. If it was just me, it would be ok. But they need to be punished for Puck."

They deserved to be punished for both Finn and Puck, and probably a thousand other things besides. Finn shifted so he could kiss my cheek. "Ok, I 'm done with the self pity now."

He has the most amazing ability to change emotions like that. Though I'm sure that his true emotions don't shut on and off like he would like me to think they do, he does tend to make a deliberate choice to be happy, which is cute and sweet, if not a little sneaky.

"I'm going to go to the trial, and I'm going to tell the truth. Even if they don't believe me, I'll know I did everything I could. Then when I see Puck again, he'll know that I didn't pussy out at the last minute."

I guessed that was one way to look at it. "You're going to do great."

He gave a humorless snort. "I guess we'll find out, won't we?"


	44. Chapter 44

A/N: I know I said that this chapter would be from Finn's POV, and be the trial, but things got a little out of control. I really wanted to get a certain someone introduced before it all blew to hell. Next chapter will be Finn's, then the trial will come after. Turns out, he had more to say then I thought he did, but none of it was regarding the trial.

_**The only normal people are the ones you don't know very well.  
~ Alfred Adler**_

Tuesday, Tuesday. Today was Tuesday. Tomorrow was Wednesday, and the next day would be Thursday. Thursday was two days from now. It would also be the start of Finn's kidnapping trial. I had been awake since three this morning, just watching the clock and turning it all over in my mind.

There had been plenty of debate over whether the Wrights would be tried first for Finn's kidnapping or Pucks' murder. If they tried the smaller crime first, and they were convicted, it would build Finn's confidence for the murder trial. If they got off, though….we would be lucky to even get him on the stand for the murder trial, much less get anything useful out of him.

In the end, it was agreed that the kidnapping trial would take place first. I think that we would be hard pressed to find anyone in Lima who actually believed that Finn had murdered Puck. The two of them had been a pair since diapers, and neither one had a reputation for violence.

The kidnapping, though….I might be a social pariah, but I'm not deaf to the rumor mill of McKinley High. There were plenty of kids (and a few teachers) who didn't find it particularly far fetched that Finn had hitched his way out of town and met up with the Wrights on the way. Granted, most of the adults did think he had then been coerced and abused, but if the people who actually interacted with Finn had trouble believing that he had been taken by force, how could a jury be expected to do it?

By the way? If the teachers don't want us picking up on their gossip, they should quit talking right out in the public hallways. They have a teachers lounge for a reason.

At least they believed that he had been forced, though. To hear the student body talk, you would think that Finn was out hooking on a corner when he was picked up by the Wrights. Four months of wild and kinky sex later, he decided it was time to come home. He wasn't battered and bruised, so he had clearly enjoyed being infected with a rampaging case of the gay.

I wanted to defend him, but what was I supposed to say? The fact that Finn hadn't wanted or liked it should have been so obvious that I had no idea how to explain it more clearly. Not to mention that I was the person they were currently blaming for leading down the rainbow path that ended with Joseph and Lily.

The clock now read 6:13, so I leaned over and turned the alarm off. Finn says that he doesn't mind when it blares at 6:15, but I hate waking him up so early for no reason. He stirred when I reached over him, but didn't wake up.

I had been laying here awake for so long that my eyes had long since adjusted, allowing me to see him clearly. I like looking at Finn when he's sleeping, because he looks so much like he used to, before all of this happened. Not that I don't love the person he's become, but it's nice to see him look like a typical 17 year old, instead of a miniature and worried adult.

He's a pretty heavy sleeper, so I didn't feel guilty leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. He whined a little and reached out, one hand opening and closing before he settled back down.

More then ever, I wondered what was going through his head. What we had done yesterday had been amazing, at least for me. On the surface, at least, he seemed very at peace with what had happened. But I worry. Maybe a part of me will always worry, no matter how many times we do things. Finn proved that he's fine with touching me over the clothes, at least this past time. But there are a million different ways to perform the same act, and I had no idea what would set him off.

Part of the problem was that Finn didn't always know what would set him off, either. He's mostly fine with Dad now, especially since he's been working more at the garage. Dad can even give him a manly slap on the back or a quick hug. A few days ago, though, he tried to do the affectionate little thing where he lightly grabs the back of your neck, and Finn blew a gasket. It's not even like the move is foreign to him, since the football team used to do it all the time. In the past, Finn had even playfully done it to me, but that was then. Now it's a big issue.

But I wanted to do it again. Even with court looming over me, I kept flashing back to Finn's hand over my body and they way it had felt. According to the Cheerios gossip, sex wasn't that big of a deal before you were having it, but once you did, you would never be happy without it again.

If that was true, then I was in big trouble. What Finn had done to me was nowhere near sex, and I was already obsessed with it. If Finn were to wake up right now, I would probably shamelessly beg him to do it again.

_Don't bother. Finn's so groggy in the mornings that I doubt he could find his own dick, much less yours. But there's always the possibility of a little afternoon delight after Glee practice. He's not a mind reader. If you want him to do it again, just ask him._

Except I might not have the courage to ask. What was easy to fantasize about in the dark wasn't so easy to say to his face in the light of day. More likely, I would end up red-faced and embarrassed, unable to tell him what I wanted.

I took a quick shower and dressed in the bathroom so as not to bother Finn. Carole was already gone to work, but Dad was awake and going over some paperwork. He gestured to the coffeepot, which was already bubbling away and drawing me towards it. "Your brother up yet?"

"No. Do you need him?" I hated that he insisted on referring to Finn as 'your brother' when he knew better. It was almost like he thought that if he said it enough, he could somehow make it true. "And you know full well that Finn is more then my brother."

He didn't take the bait. "I do, and the two of you can do whatever you want together. But we agreed as a family that, at least until this trial is over, that the two of you will be nothing but brothers outside of this house. It's easier for me to just keep the pretense up for now."

There was a certain amount of truth to that, and a certain amount of lie as well. Yes, the defense would be looking for any cracks in our family, and Dad referring to Finn as my boyfriend in public was a pretty big gaping hole. But, yes, he also wanted to pretend that we were a perfect blended family, without any basement fondling going on between the kids.

But that was something that could be addressed at a later date. Yes, believe it or not, I was actually learning to let some things go, instead of fighting until the bitter end. "Fair enough. Do you need Finn?"

"Maybe. Today's filing and paperwork at the garage. Do you think he'd be interested, or should I just let him stay home?"

There were probably few things on earth less interesting to Finn the filing and paperwork. "He'll probably be bored. But it won't hurt him to work on some of those skills. We have Glee today, though, so don't keep him too long."

He looked up from his paperwork. "Is he….is Finn doing alright there? He's happy and no one's picking on him, are they?" 

I noticed that he thought to ask the question about Finn, but not about me. But, again, Finn was the one everyone worried about. I was considered able to take care of myself.

_Because you never tell them that anything is wrong. Remember last year, the one time you told your father that Mr. Shue was picking on you by not letting you try out for the solo you wanted? He was at McKinley that afternoon, reaming the man out. He can't help you if you don't tell him that there's a problem._

Wasn't it partially responsibility to ask? He was the parent and I was still a minor child. Carole asked Finn how his day had gone and what he had done every single night while I burned with silent jealousy. Most nights she asked me as well, but I could help but feel like an afterthought. Dad very seldom asked either one of us.

"Kurt? Is Finn doing alright?" Dad had mistaken my wandering thoughts for reluctance to tell him that Finn was being bullied.

"He's fine. He fit right back in at Glee, and no one else is bothering him. He's never around the other kids, so I don't know how they would treat him. Probably not well." I hadn't realized I was going to keep going, but the words came out without conscious thought. "I think he really misses Puck."

Finn seldom talked about Puck, which sometimes made us think that he didn't really think about him. But I watched Finn in Glee practice, and I knew differently. At least a dozen times a practice, I would catch him turning towards what had what been Puck's chair, a smile starting to tug up on his lips. That smile would fall rapidly when he saw the seat was, and would always be, empty.

He didn't want to talk about it, though. If I hinted about it, he would pretend that he didn't understand what I was trying to say. If I asked directly he would shrug and become quiet for the rest of the night. The one time I had pushed it further, he snapped that I was his boyfriend, not his therapist and quit acting like Samantha. His vehemence had been surprising, and I backed off.

"Of course he does. It sounds like Puck was the only guy he was really close to as a friend. It has to hurt to have no one to have guy talks with."

He was right. Finn was easy-going and charming, and tended to get along with just about everyone. I didn't think there was a member of the Glee club, male or female who disliked him. He enjoyed playing basketball with Matt, baseball with Mike, and gaming with Artie. But none of them were Puck. He would listen to and keep their secrets, but he wouldn't share his own. "He has me."

"Kid, you just reminded me that you're his boyfriend, not his friend. There's a line between the two of you that there wouldn't have been with Puck. I know that it hurts to see him suffering, but this is just one of those hurts that has to heal on its own."

I would have liked to talk more about this, but I was running out of time. "So I should just do nothing?"

"I would- Hey there Champ!" His voice went from serious to unnaturally bright. "You're up early."

Finn padded into the room, looking far too alert for someone who had just woken up and stumbled up the stairs. I wondered how long he had been standing at the top of the stairs, listening to Dad and I talk about him. "Morning, Cowboy."

He never took his eyes off of Dad as he came around and kissed me on the cheek. "Do we have Glee today?"

"Yes. Do you want me to make you some breakfast?" I searched his face for some indication of what he might have heard, but his face was totally closed off.

"No, I'll make it." His gentle smile softened the blow. "I'll miss you."

He always told me that, and it melted my heart every single time. "I'll miss you, too. But it will only be a few hours, I promise."

"Ok." He poured himself a cup of coffee and stuck a bagel in the toaster.

I hung around for a few more minutes, but Finn had become absorbed in playing with his brand new phone and was ignoring both Dad and I. I wasn't sure if he was deliberately snubbing us for gossiping about him or if he was just obsessed with Angry Birds. With Finn, it can go either way.

He did turn his face to receive a quick kiss from me before I left, though, so he probably wasn't too angry. At least that was one thing I wouldn't have to worry about today.

Since Finn is still scheduled to come back to regular school in January, I've been picking up his work from the classes he should be taking and bringing it home to him. His homebound tutor was supposed to teach it to him, but I usually got impatient and did it myself. I thought that I would hate teaching, and I'm sure that I would have if it was anyone else, but I love the time spent one on one with Finn. He's much more responsive to being worked with individually, and he always tries for me, where he doesn't usually for his teachers at school.

I managed to catch Matt on his way in, so he walked around with me and helped get all of Finn's work for the week. He also dropped me off at my first class. The hockey coach has instituted early morning practices, which cuts down on their chances to come after me, but there's always the football team to contend with.

I was pulling my own things together for class when a soft voice interrupted me. "Excuse, me, are you Kurt?"

No one ever sought me out for anything good. I sat up and looked at the newcomer, someone I had never seen before. He was cute enough, if you were into that type. Blond, nice build, pouty lips. Make that _very_ poutylips. "I am. What can I do for you?" I kept my shoulders squared and my back straight in an attempt to look bigger.

He was clearly nervous, which made me relax a bit. "Hi, I'm Sam Evans. I wanted to join the Glee club. The principal said that all I had to do was sign up, but the teacher…um…Mr. Shuester? He said that that wasn't really the case and I would need to talk to Kurt or Rachel. Something about a Frank or a Finn or something?"

"Finn." Oh, crap, oh crap. Rachel and I had discussed vetting out anyone who wanted to join the club, but we hadn't really decided what that meant. What was I supposed to do?

_Not panicking might be a good start. Calm down and think this through. You have the entire day before practice, which is plenty of time to hook up with Rachel and make plans. Invite him along._

That was sound advice. Rachel and I could come up with a plan for what to say to this Sam, and Finn himself would get a chance to meet him. "Look, we have practice after school today if you want to come check it out. When is your lunch?"

He fished out a crumpled schedule. "Noon."

Same time as mine. I took the schedule and looked it over. If his classes were any indication, this Sam was fairly bright. "Rachel and I both have lunch then as well, so why don't you come sit with us?"

He squirmed. "Is this like some scary hazing ritual to be in the club? Because it was easier to get on the football team."

I tried to reassure him. "Not at all. There's just some…last year was really tough for the Glee club, and we're just making sure that it stays a close knit group. No hazing, I promise." He seemed to relax, so I tried a small joke. "Besides, the McKinley football team is terrible, so they're probably coming after you like sharks after blood."

It wasn't much, but he did smile nervously. "That's probably true. The coach said something about last years Quarterback not coming back, so I kind of just walked on. I guess he moved or something."

_Or something. _

But we needed another guy, and it wouldn't be fair to push this guy out just because Finn might get his feelings ruffled. He understood disappointment, and how to move on from it.

The warning bell dinged, and Sam moved to an empty seat. I snuck my phone out and texted Rachel under the table, asking that she meet me out by my car during our free period. We needed a game plan for how to handle Sam, and I knew that she would never dream of skipping class. Normally I wouldn't either, but when it comes to Finn, all bets are off. She agreed to meet me, leaving me with nothing to do but wait.

I was acutely aware of Sam on the other side of the room, and wondered how to present this. Protecting Finn's privacy should have been a priority, but I needed to be realistic. Everyone knew what had happened, and most of the school would be delighted to share the gory details. I'm sure that Sam had heard a few things, but he clearly hadn't yet made the connection.

_Quit worrying. There is absolutely zero reason for it, considering that Rachel has a plan for what to do. How do I know this? Because Rachel Berry always has a plan, regardless of the circumstances. Figuring out what to say to Sam is her job. Figuring out how to support Finn is yours. _

That thought helped me relax a little more, at least enough that I could pay attention in my classes. My grades were slipping a bit, and I hated it. I needed to focus.

Rachel wasn't happy to be missing study hall, but she got with the program once I explained what was happening. "Can he sing?"

I rolled my eyes. "I don't know, Rachel. I couldn't very well ask him for a demonstration in the middle of class."

"I would have. It's very important to get a quick idea of what skill level we're working with." She gave a quick sniff. "We have to look ahead to competitions."

"If we don't get a 12th member we won't be having a competition. Glee is an inclusive club, so it doesn't really matter if he can sing or not. The only way he's out is if it turns out that he's a danger to one of us. The reason I wanted to talk to you is so we can come up with a game plan for how to handle this with Finn. I told Sam that we would talk to him at lunch. He has to know something about what happened, but I don't know how much to tell him."

"How much you tell him won't matter, because he can learn the details anywhere. The main thing to worry about is how he's going to treat Finn once they get together. You said that he didn't even get Finn's name right the first time, which is a good thing. It means that Finn isn't his focus."

Unless it was fake. The fact that he had already joined, and presumably spoken to, the football team scared me. What if they planned on using Sam to get the gory details about Finn? Sure they already knew what had happened, but Finn himself, and how he had reacted to it was still a mystery. The person who got the inside scoop and will willing to tell everyone about it was going to be the hero of McKinley High.

_Paranoid much? Mike and Matt are on the football team too, and you aren't blaming or suspecting them. Sam is probably exactly what he appears to be, which is just a guy interested in the Glee club. Finn's become a pretty good judge of character, so just let him take the lead._

That would probably be best, but I was still afraid of it ending poorly and Finn being freaked out right before his trial. I shook my head to push the thought away. "So we tell him everything."

"In a tasteful manner, yes.' She didn't sound like she could think of any way to tastefully talk about rape and murder.

"Let me do it. I'm a little more…Finn's my brother, and I know him best." I still had no idea what to say, but I knew that I wouldn't be satisfied with anything Rachel could possibly say or do.

She nodded. "Ok."

I was a nervous mess by lunch time, barely able to nibble on the wrap that Finn had put together for me. Rachel picked delicately at her salad, clearly as worried as I was.

But it turned out to be for nothing. The football team must have been working overtime during their team study hour, and he had already been filled in on every possible gruesome detail. I could read it in his face as soon as he sat down.

For a few seconds, the three of us did nothing but stare at each other, like gunslingers in some old Western. No one knew what to say, or how to address the elephant in the cafeteria.

Finally the silence got too overwhelming, and I awkwardly cleared my throat. "So, Sam this is Rachel. Rachel, Sam. He wants to join the Glee club."

Her smile was strained. "Hi. Were you in the Glee club at your last school?"

"No, this will be my first time. But I do love to sing, and I think I'm pretty good."

If I didn't step in, they would dance around it until lunch was over. "I'm assuming that you've heard all about why we're looking for new members."

"Yeah." His eyes were huge. "That's just…I mean…wow. It's just crazy."

Crazy was an excellent way to describe our lives since March 19th. "So you do understand why we're checking you out. People in this school are already gong to be making things hard for Finn, and he doesn't need that in Glee as well.

"Yeah, yeah, understood. So what do I have to do?"

"Can you come to practice after school today? You can meet everyone and get a taste of what thing are like. We just started the year, so we aren't too far into things."

He shook his head. "Both of my parents work, so if I don't take the bus, I can't get home. I can figure something out for other days, but I didn't expect to have to stay today."

The next practice wasn't for another two days, and I didn't think that I would be able to take that much worry. "Where do you live? Finn and I could probably give you a ride home."

He smiled tentatively. "That would be cool. I live out on Old Orchard Road."

That was almost out of district, and not one of the better areas of Lima. It seemed that this Sam was going to fit right in to the misfit bunch. "I know where that is. We'll give you a ride home."

The questions about Finn and I swirled in his eyes, but I had to give him credit for not asking. "Ok. How late will practice be? We have a neighbor watching my brother and sister, and I'll have to let her know what time I can pick them up."

"We start late, so it will probably be five or so. Is that too late?" Rachel, who was no doubt chafing for a chance to speak, jumped in before I could. Neither she nor I wanted to scare him off.

"No, it's ok. So, where do I go after school?"

"The choir room, which is probably where you met Mr. Shuester the first time. We don't start until XXXX, so you'll have some extra time. "We were trying to slowly nudge the starting time back a few minutes at a time until we were starting right after school. Hopefully by the time we got it there, Finn would be old news and no one would bother him.

Once it was established that Sam would definitely be present, I excused myself to go call Finn. He hated walking into things blind, and I knew he would need a little time to prepare for a new member of Glee. His phone was nearly in voicemail by the time he picked up. "Hello?"

"Hey, Cowboy, what are you up to?" Just hearing his voice loosened my chest a little. I love his goofy self, and I miss him when we're separated.

"Filing shit. Burt's in there on the phone trying to get people to pay their bills. What's going on there? Are the guys leaving you alone?"

"Things have gone very well today." That was mostly because I had yet to see any of them, but I wasn't planning on telling him that.

"Cool. So how come you're calling?"

How could I say this delicately? "We're going to have a new person in Glee today, and I wanted to give you the heads up."

"Really?" He sounded excited and pleased. "Is she any good?"

"She is a he, and I don't know yet. We'll all get to see him perform at once."

Heavy breathing told me that he hadn't hung up, but Finn had gone silent on me. "Finn? Are you still with me?"

More silence before he whispered. "Yeah."

"What's wrong, Sweetheart?" I had no idea what had caused the sudden shift in his moods.

"Nothing." His tone told me that it was a pretty big nothing, but I didn't get a chance to push the issue. "Burt says to get off the phone while I'm working. I'll see you at Glee." He hung up before I could say anything back.

That was…odd. I didn't know what about this had set Finn off, but he was clearly disturbed about something. The other interesting thing was that he had called Dad by name twice in a single conversation. Though he was welcome to address him by any name or variation of 'dad' that he might choose, Finn seldom called him anything to his face. If he was talking to me, he called him 'your Dad'. If he was speaking directly to Dad, he usually just waited until they had made eye contact, and then he didn't have to call Dad anything.

The puzzle that was Finn and his behavior kept me occupied for the rest of the day, and through the dead period between the end of school and the start of Glee. I had great faith in my abilities to tease the truth out of him, but it always helped to have a plan beforehand.

Because I was so occupied with my thoughts, I was three minutes late to go get Finn. That in and of itself wasn't too bad. He could either wait in the car with Dad or get out and get himself to practice. The issue was that my movements through the school were carefully choreographed, to avoid danger, and I ended up rounding a corner and coming face to face with both Adam and Junior.

We all had the same reaction. First freezing, then rapidly looking around to see if there was anyone who could help me. Of course, I hoping there would be, and they were praying that there wouldn't be, but our actions were perfect mirror images.

This time, luck was on their side. The school had cleared out, and the rest of the Glee club was already in the choir room. I was outnumbered and grossly outweighed. Still, I backed against the wall and stiffened up. If I was going to get the crap beaten out of me, I would at least go down fighting.

I didn't get the chance. Once second Junior was pulling his arm back to hit me, and the next he himself was pinned against the wall. Apparently Finn had gotten tired of waiting, and decided to come find me. He had, and was not pleased with what he saw.

This was the first time since he had been back, and maybe the first time ever, I had seen Finn truly furious. I've seen him throw tantrums, usually with some kicking of things, and assumed that that was Finn furious. No, that was Finn_ angry_. This was something totally different.

He was absolutely silent, eyes fixed and body tense. He had Junior pinned to the wall by an arm across his throat, and he wasn't moving back. Junior wasn't being totally denied air, but he was clearly straining to get it. Adam took one look at the scene and bolted, either to look for a teacher or save his own skin.

I had to get Finn off. Not only could he injure someone, but if anyone saw this, Finn's mental state would be called into serious question. I tried to call his name, but it came out choked and soft. This was like a nightmare, then kind where you kept trying to scream, but couldn't make a sound.

But my voice turned out to be unneeded. Finn pressed his face close to Junior's, their eyes just inches apart and hissed threateningly. "If you touch my Kurt again, I'll fucking kill you. If you let someone else do it, I'll fucking kill _both_ of you. Do not try me on this one. Let everyone else know that my brother is off limits." Then he dropped his arm and turned around. "Come on Kurt, we have Glee."

For a second, I was scared to follow him. This was the same Finn that I had seen in the mall the other day, when he was deliberately playing games with the salesman. He was angry, but not the out of control soft of angry. This was deliberate, planned out fury, and it was upsetting on a gut level. It was almost as if….I choked that thought down and hurried after him.

_Just say it. No one says that you have to tell anyone else, but you should at least be able to admit it to yourself._

Fine. It was almost like Finn had picked up on the aggressive and manipulative side of Josephs own personality. It wasn't all overt, and it wasn't all the time, but he had developed a mean streak that he could turn on at a moments notice. Even more disturbing, he could turn it right back off when it suited him.

Shock had kept Junior from immediately retaliating, but he recovered himself very quickly. "So he's _your_ Kurt now, is he? I guess you really did like taking it up the ass. You're probably the one who killed Puck, too."

That was the most painful thing he could have accused Finn of, and I felt him flinch, but he didn't give Junior much of a response. He did raise his middle finger, but I could hardly fault him for that.

He also didn't look back to make sure we weren't being followed. Since he's been back, he's developed a knack for telling who might be a danger and who was only bluffing. Clearly he didn't see Junior as a threat.

"He won't bug you again." Finn pressed his hand to the middle of my back, leading me forward.

"You shouldn't have done that, Finn." I kept my voice low. "What if he tells someone?"

"He won't. And even if he does, no one will believe him." Finn didn't seem disturbed at all.

The point was that he had deliberately hurt someone else. Pulling Junior off of me would have been alright. I would have even excused it if Junior had started a physical fight with Finn. But he hadn't. Finn had reacted with a level of aggression that was out or proportion to the crime.

_Finn was defending you. He wouldn't have bothered with Junior at any other time, and you know it. I know that some of what you've seen with Finn lately is upsetting, but if you keep thinking you see Joseph in Finn, it's going to become a self-fulfilling prophecy. If none of this had happened, would Finn doing this worry you so much? _

No. But it had happened, and Finn wasn't the same person he would have been if it hadn't. I didn't want to over think this either, and read things into Finn's actions that weren't actually there.

I still wanted to impress on Finn that this could have been a huge mistake. "They'll believe him if he goes to Figgins with an enormous bruise on this throat. Look, I'm grateful that you stood up for me, and I love that you want to, but you're making me scared for the trial. Can you imagine how it would sound if it came out that you bruised someone up two days before it started?"

"He won't get a bruise. Trust me, doing that never leaves a bruise." He smiled thinly at me. "But you're right. I need to be better until the trial is over."

I would prefer that he watch his temper period, not just for the trial, but I was willing to take what I could get. Then the rest of what Finn had said sank in. "What do you mean that you know it won't bruise? How many people have you choked like that?"

"None." He looked hurt that I would accuse him of doing that.

No, I hadn't really thought that he had. But he had always been so insistent that Joseph hadn't physically hurt him that I had believed him. "Did Joseph do it to you?"

He shrugged. "Uh-uh."

The way he cut his eyes marked him as a liar. I wanted to push it, but I managed to refrain. "Ok. Rachel and I are going to be relying on you to check Sam out and see how you think he's going to fit. Let us know if he does anything to make you uncomfortable."

Finn does very well when his responsibilities are clearly laid out, so I knew that he would focus. He nodded pertly at me, already looking ahead. I gave him one last chance to back out. "Are you ready, or do you need one more minute?"

"I'm ready." He was placid again, showing no signs of the rage he had directed at Junior.

Because of everything that had happened, we were late to practice. Mr. Shue was already warming everyone up, but he did stop for us. "Hey, Guys, we didn't think you were coming."

"We got kind of held up." Finn turned to Sam. "Hi, I'm Finn. Sam, right?"

"Sam Evans. I'm the new guy, and I guess you're the big man on campus?"

Finn laughed. "I used to be, but not so much anymore. Cool to meet you, though."

Once that first introduction was out of the way, we were able to get started. Sam was pretty good. He needed some polish, and he couldn't sight read, but this time last year, Finn couldn't either.

Because it was Sam's first day, we remained very informal. We looked through the music together, and sang a few Disney songs that we all knew. Sam and Finn seemed comfortable with each other. For the first time since Finn had vanished, I started to think that things might be looking up for the Glee club.

Plus, it was adorable to watch Finn, Artie and Sam singing 'The Bear Necessities' from the Jungle Book. Finn skillfully drew Sam out, asking him questions about where he had lived before, and what liked doing here. So Sam was 16, one year younger then Finn and I, he had a much younger brother and sister, and he loved sports. He seemed like a good fit, and everyone enjoyed his company. If the starry look in Mercedes' eyes was any indication, she particularly enjoyed him.

Mr. Shue stayed back and let us sort this one out for ourselves. By now he trusted us to be fair and know what was and wasn't good for the club. He was mostly there to give the assignments, mediate the disputes, and provide support when we needed it.

Once we were done, Mr. Shue clapped his hands and smiled. "Sam Evans' welcome to the Glee club."

I never, ever, got tired of hearing those words. From the way he grinned next to me, I suspected that Finn felt the same way. We would never be the club that we had been with Puck, but maybe we could become something just as good.

The two of them continued chatting on the way to Sam's house. All of my worries seemed to have been for nothing, since Finn had accepted Sam without a sideways glance.

Hopefully the memory of today and how well it had gone would help get us both through the trial ahead.


	45. Chapter 45

_A/N: The Next chapter will be the trial with Kurt on the stand. The one after will be Finn on the stand. Would you guys rather have it from Finn's POV, or Kurts? _

_There are Three Sides to Every Story. My Side, Your Side, and the Truth. _

_Author Unknown._

Kurt's staring at me. So's Mom. So's Burt. They're all staring at me, and they're all pretending that they aren't. I looked down at my plate and tried to concentrate on eating, just so I would have something to do besides feel their eyes on me. If I try and call them on it, they'll all pretend that they aren't, so I don't bother any more.

For people who wanted me to talk for so long, they aren't always very good at listening to me when I do.

While I was looking at my plate, I tried to figure out why there were staring today. I had been really good and normal, so I don't get what the problem is. I woke up at the same time Kurt did, even though I don't have to get up until 8. I like seeing him before he goes to school, and if I get up at the same time he does, he doesn't have to worry about waking me up with his shower or getting dressed.

At 8:30, Burt and I went to the garage together. I like Burt ok, I guess. If none of this shit had happened, I would probably like him a lot, maybe even love him by now. I know that it's not his fault that he's a dude, or that he kind of looks like Joseph. It's also not his fault that he's not my real Dad. I kind of blame him for all of those things, even though I wouldn't tell him that and I try to hide it.

But my body blames him a lot more then my brain does. Every time he reaches towards me, I jump. I didn't do that with Joseph, so I thought it was kind of weird until Samantha and I talked about it. What she said was that I never jumped around Joseph because I knew that it didn't matter. He would touch me or have sex with me whether I liked it or not, so it didn't pay to have any reaction. With Burt, I know that he wouldn't want to hurt me, so I jump because I know that he won't push me if he sees that I'm scared and uncomfortable.

Basically, what she means is I treat Burt worse then I treated Joseph, because I trust him more. Isn't that psychology shit weird?

Burt's really nice about it, and he always tries to treat me the same way he treats Kurt, but I still don't completely trust him. Sometimes he does really nice things for me, like telling me I can drive us to the garage, or letting me drink all the Coke I want even though we both know that Mom would be pissed if she found out. It's kind of fun, but whenever he does that, I always kind of wonder what he's going to want in return. Joseph used to let me drink beer if I would suck him off afterwards without crying.

At the garage, I did everything myself, without one mistake. Burt or Mike always check my work, but I haven't made a mistake in the past three days. Even if I suck at everything else, I can always become a mechanic.

After work I had tutoring, which I hate. School is boring to start with, and this lady makes it even worse. Blah, blah, blah, she just sits there and tells me the lesson. It's not fun at all. I do it, though, because I don't want to end up back in real school. Well, I do, but I'm not ready yet. It was hard enough to go to Glee the other day, and apparently I had some sort of freaky nightmare that night. I don't remember it, but Kurt was still scared in the morning. He tried to pretend he wasn't, but he's not as good of a liar as he thinks he is.

I usually wait to do my homework until Kurt comes home and can help me, so I helped Mom get things ready for dinner instead. Since Lily and I were home together all the time, she showed me how to make some really good stuff. How come no one ever told me that cooking is really easy once you figure out the basic stuff? All I have to do is remember who likes what and I'm good.

There was no Glee today, so Kurt came home early and we did our homework together while he caught me up on the latest gossip. Coach Sylvester again. I don't know why he gets surprised about that. She' a bitch. She's always been a bitch, and she's always going to be a bitch. Even I know that.

Really, that's pretty much how most of my days go. Some days I have therapy instead of tutoring, and I only go to the garage for a few hours on the days that I have Glee, but mostly it's the same stuff over and over.

But it had been a good day, which meant that there was no real reason for everyone to be staring at me right now. I hadn't acted crazy; I had done everything I should have today. I hadn't even done anything stupid like I usually do. It wasn't fair for them to pick on me like this.

"I'm not going to do a trick or anything. You can all quit staring." I was proud of the way I didn't yell or kick something.

They all blushed and looked down. See, that's how I know that I'm not being paranoid. If I was paranoid, they would have tried to deny it.

"Guess what we did in Glee yesterday!" Kurt was doing that thing where his voice got really loud and fast and his eyes got all bright looking. Samantha calls it appeasement, which means he's trying to fix the situation before it gets really ugly by trying to make us all happy again. "We're doing Brittany Spears. Of course, Brittany thinks that she's actually turning into Brittany Spears, but you know how she is."

That ended up leading to a whole new conversation, and everyone kind of forgot what I had said. That was ok with me, because I didn't really want to talk about it any more. I just wanted to let them know that they were staring, and that I didn't like it.

After dinner, Kurt and I stayed upstairs and watched a movie with our parents instead of going to our room. I think that it's partly because of what we did the other day. I don't know if he's worried because he didn't like it, or because he wants it again and doesn't know how to ask me. That's kind of stupid, since he could just use his mouth to tell me, but it's kind of not. I mean, I could have used my mouth to tell him a lot of things right after Joseph and Lily brought me back, but I didn't.

Want to know a secret? I could have. I told Kurt that I couldn't make myself talk, but that was a lie. I don't lie a lot, but I do it sometimes. I could have said anything I wanted, even when he first pulled up. I just didn't.

At first I didn't say anything because I didn't know what to say. I guess I could have just said 'hi', but I didn't think of that right then. I was tired, and I was thirsty, and I was hot. I had no idea what to do, so I just let Kurt be in charge. He's good at telling everyone what to do.

Then Mom and Burt came, and I didn't talk to them, either. You know why? Because everyone was paying attention to me for once. Mom wasn't all obsessed with Burt; she was obsessed with me and making me happy. If I started talking, they would go back to ignoring me.

Then it all kind of got out of control. If I had just started talking right away, it would have been ok. But by the time a few days had passed, I didn't even know what to say any more. I didn't want to rat on Joseph and Lily, even though they had been mean to me, and I didn't want to talk about what they had done to me, and I sure as shit didn't want to talk about Puck. But if I didn't talk about any of those things, what was there left to talk about? No one would ask me directly, but it was all that everyone wanted to know.

So I just sat there and prayed that it would all go away. Even though Quinn always thought that God was pissed at her for one reason or another, Mom says that he's nice and forgiving. So I thought that maybe I could offer him a trade. I knew that I couldn't ask him to bring Puck back, but I promised him that I would be a perfect kid from now on if he would just make both of the Wrights disappear. I wouldn't tell anyone their names. I wouldn't fight with Burt and I would let Kurt flirt with me all he wanted. It wasn't like I really cared what he did to my body any more. I would help Mom around the house, and I wouldn't ever make any extra work for any of them.

I kept my side of the bargain, but God didn't keep his. I guess that he's a pissed off God after all.

When the police officer came and told us that he had caught Joseph, I knew that it was over. Even if I said nothing, he could say whatever he wanted, and I knew that he wanted to make me look like the bad guy.

So I talked to Kurt. I didn't think I was going to tell him everything, but once I started, I kind of had to. Some of the stuff, like the kidnapping, and being locked in the closet, and how I was sure that he was going to kill me, I was already planning to tell him. Those were the most important things. I didn't want to have to tell him about the rape and some of the other stuff that Joseph did, but he kind of talked me into it. Plus, I think he already kind of knew. Probably everyone already kind of knew but was too nice to say anything.

Once I started telling him stuff, though, I just kept going. I even told him the stuff that I had sworn I would take to my grave, like the fact that Joseph was able to get me off, even when he was raping me.

I hate that word, by the way. Rape. It sounds like what it is, and what it is is….I can't even describe it. Joseph took my body, which was mine only, and made it his. He could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and I just had to go along with it. I actually think it would have been better if he had hurt me and made me bleed when he fucked me or made me choke and gag and throw up when he had me blow him. The way he did it, he tricked my body into thinking it was good and fun, even though my brain knew that it wasn't.

That was the night that I fell in love with Kurt a little bit. Not much, and probably not even real love, but it was something. I already knew that I loved him like a brother, like I had loved Puck, but this was different. It wasn't like how I felt for Rachel or Quinn either, though, so I was kind of confused.

Luckily, Kurt didn't try and push me, which meant I could take my time to figure out exactly what that feeling was. It also gave the feeling a little time to grow. I wasn't into dudes, so I didn't really think that it could be love. I just knew that I wanted to be around him more, and do things to make him extra happy, and that I was suddenly jealous when Mercedes came over, or when Kurt talked about guys he saw on TV. But it's kind of normal for the little brother to be jealous of the big brother, right? Technically Kurt's the big brother even though he's only two months older and, like, way smaller then me.

Then I had some dreams. They still weren't exactly sex dreams. It wasn't like with Quinn or Rachel, where I would dream that they were going down on me, or that they would suddenly pull their skirts up during class and wouldn't be wearing panties. You know, normal stuff.

I didn't have those dreams about Kurt. Like, I had one where he was sitting on the bed wearing one of my button ups. It was too big on him and the top buttons were undone, so it kind of slipped down his one shoulder. I couldn't see much, really not even a nipple, but it was really really hot. Or there was one where the two of us were cuddling on his bed at night, just like always, but he kissed me instead of just snuggling.

Like I said, they weren't sex dreams, but I still woke up really hard and needing a little relief. Which was actually a good thing, because I because I was kind of having some trouble with that since I got home. Little Finn had no problem jumping to attention about a million times a day, but the minute I tried to do anything about it, all I could think about was Joseph touching me in the same way and the little soldier just gave up the fight. So even if it was Kurt that was getting me hard instead of some chick, at least my dick wasn't broken any more.

It was sending me a message that I was too stupid to pick up on at first, though. I just figured, hey, if I'm going to get off in the end, I'll go along with whatever pictures my brain wants to send to help out. And it wasn't even like he was actually getting naked in those pictures anyway. See, sometimes a naked person is art, and sometimes its porn. Kurt's body was art, because it wasn't supposed to be nasty and it was still kind of covered up.

Right up until it wasn't. One night I had a dream that Kurt turned from the Virgin Mary to the biggest porn slut who ever lived. That was the night I figured out that my dick was _definitely_ fixed. But with Kurt?

I knew that it wasn't wrong to want to be with Kurt, and I knew that being with him would be different the being with Joseph. At least I thought it would. But Kurt had been pushy even after I made it pretty clear that I wasn't interested in him. Maybe he would have done the same thing that Joseph did. Sure, he couldn't have kidnapped me, but it's a short walk between our beds. He could do something to me faster then I could push him away.

So I decided to give him a test. It was mean, but I had to know for sure. I waited until late at night, and sprung the trap by kissing him. We were outside, and Mom and Burt were both asleep, so there was no one to hear me calling for help. Kurt's really smart, so he had to know that. If there was no one to stop him, would he stop himself?

He did, and that made me love him a little more again. Still not in _love_ in love, but closer. It's kind of easy to love someone, though, when they're the only person you ever get to see. I mean, look at that creepy "Flowers in the Attic" book. Even the brother and sister did it.

When Rachel finally came back, I though that all of my old feelings would come back with her, and I wouldn't have weird incest-y feelings for Kurt. The four of us would be a real family and I would get back with her and I would quit having those creepy dreams where I sucked Kurt off during Glee practice. My imagination is really good at thinking about what Kurt's dick looks like.

By the way? The only thing that happened when Rachel came over was that I found out that I really didn't have those feelings for her any more. I should have guessed that one. I mean, everything else that's happened this year has been a big suck fest, so why should this be any different? No, wait, she did bring cookies, so I guess it wasn't a _total_ suck fest. Just most of one.

So I was right back where I started, except more confused. It was even worse because there was no one to ask for help. Usually I would have asked Kurt, or Mom, or even Puck, but I couldn't do that now. Well, I could find that old Ouija board and try Puck, I guess, but I already know that he would laugh and say 'Quit acting like a pussy, Finnessa', which doesn't exactly help. Is it being a pussy to chase after Kurt or being a pussy not to?

"Finn? Are you ready for homework?" Kurt lightly rubbed the side of my neck.

I hadn't even realized the movie was over, so this probably wasn't the first time that he had tried to get my attention. That's another thing, by the way. Every time I don't pay attention to them right away, or I get distracted, they start worrying that I'm going nuts again. Jeez, guys, sometimes I just don't hear you the first time.

"Sure." I still don't like doing homework, but at least I get to be alone with Kurt and I don't have to watch Mom and Burt make goo-goo eyes at each other.

I'm almost all the way though algebra, which is kind of neat. If I go back to school in January, I might actually be ahead for once. Kurt's taking something that doesn't even look like math any more, since it has so many letters in it, but at least he helps me out.

Tonight, though, he didn't really want to do homework. He wanted to snuggle in his cool hanging chair/egg thing. I like the snuggling, but when Kurt wants to snuggle, it usually means that he wants to talk about shit at the same time.

Sure enough, we were barely both comfortable before he started. "Can we talk about what happened?"

Here we go. Kurt worries to death about everything. We had done it, he got off, I liked seeing him get off. What else was there to talk about? I wanted to pretend that I didn't know what he was talking about, but Kurt hates it when I act stupid. "Ok. What about it?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were ok with it." He seemed confused, like maybe that wasn't really what he wanted to ask.

"Yep. I was fine with it. You don't have to ask about every little thing, you know." It kind of hurt my feelings when he acted like I was too stupid to know my own feelings. Then I would remember that sometimes I really didn't, and I would feel worse.

Sometimes I think that Puck wasn't too far off when he called me Finnessa. I do get my feelings hurt pretty easy.

He reached around to rub my neck, which always helps. You know how when you go to the doctor and he hits your knee with his hammer thing, your leg automatically kicks? It's a reflex. When Kurt touches my neck, I automatically drop my head so he can rub better. "I know that I don't. But I worry about you, Finn. I love you; I always want you to be happy and comfortable."

It's kind of hard to stay mad when he says it like that. "I know."

There's something else that I know. I know that he really wants me to tell him that I love him back. But I don't, and I don't want to lie about it. I like him a lot, and I do have feeling for him that are more then I would have for a brother, but I don't think its love yet.

"So what did you think about Sam? We didn't really get a chance to talk about it yesterday."

I hated him. Hated him, hated him, _hated_ him. Everyone liked him, he was a good singer, and he was going to be the quarterback instead of me. Everything he had should have been mine. Fucking Sam Evans was living the life I would have had if Puck was still alive.

"He seems cool." I turned my head so he could rub the other side.

I can't say the truth to Kurt, though, and I especially can't say it to Sam. I know that I have a temper and that I sometimes say things that are mean and hurtful, but I'm trying to be more mature and stop doing that. It's not Sam's fault that any of this happened, and if it hadn't, we would probably be friends. So there's no reason for me to be a dickhead.

"Are you sure? Because you seemed a little funny on the phone." He moved to stroking the side of my hair, and I relaxed. Why couldn't he do this all the time?

"I'm sure." I knew that he wasn't going to just let this go, so I tried to think of something to say that was the truth, but not the real truth that made me look like a douchebag. "I just really miss Puck, that's all. I keep wishing that Sam was him, but he isn't."

_Of course he isn't Puck. He's too busy being you._

"I'm sorry, Cowboy. I wish I could say the right thing and make this better for you."

There wasn't a right thing to say, but we all knew that by now. But he was trying really hard, and probably doing better then I would have done if our positions were reversed. "It's ok. Like I said, Sam's cool and it'll get better once we all get to know each other. I mean, you and I didn't get along at first at all, and now look at us."

He laughed a little. "Yeah, I'm still not sure how that happened."

Me either. No matter how many times I go back and think about everything that happened, I still don't understand how I went from being the Glee stud with both Quinn and Rachel, to just having Kurt. The weirdest part was, I was ok with it. "It's kind of cool that it did, though, right?"

That's something else that keeps me from really loving Kurt. I know that he loved me a lot before all of this shit happened. But I'm not the same person I was then, and I can't tell if he likes the new me as much as he liked the old one. I know I wouldn't, and I'm not going to be with someone who wants me to be someone else. Even if that someone else was the dude that I used to be.

"Of course it's cool that it worked out like that." He acted like he was surprised that I had even asked. "Why, are you not happy?"

"I'm happy." It wasn't really a lie. I have lots of things in my life to be happy about. I'm doing ok in school. I have Glee. I have a job, and since I never go anywhere, I actually have a lot of money saved up. I really want to get a present for Kurt with it, for putting up with me like he does, but I'm not sure what to get him. I still have friends, even if I don't have Puck. I have Kurt, even if I'm not 100% sure what to do with him.

Don't get me wrong, there's still a lot of suck happening, and there's going to be more suck at the trial, but I can do it. After all, I've survived this far, haven't I?

I put both legs out and pushed so we could swing a little. When Kurt's at school and I'm here, I like to wind the chair up and spin, but when he's home, he always bitches and says that it will end up getting ripped out of the ceiling. Sometimes I worry about that happening, but I mostly think that Kurt's being a drama queen.

He didn't look very convinced, so I had to repeat myself. "I promise, Kurt, I'm happy."

"I'm scared for the trial." He said it softly, like he hadn't meant to.

I know that he did mean to say it, though. I know that Kurt's a lot smarter then I am, but I'm not as easy to trick as I used to be. But he's not really trying to trick me either. See, it's a therapist thing. Kurt thinks that I'm scared about the trial, but that I don't want to tell him that. So if he tells me that _he's_ scared, then he thinks that I won't be embarrassed to say that_ I'm_ scared. He's trying to let me save face.

Yeah, but that's not really something I worry about any more. Everyone in the world would be scared for a trial like this, even, like Batman or the Wolverine. Being afraid because someone raped me, or because I saw Puck die doesn't make me a pussy. It means I'm normal. Samantha and I've talked about this like a million times

But I don't tell Kurt that. First of all I don't like telling him the things that I talk about with Samantha. The sort of things a dude says to his shrink should just be sacred. I don't even tell Mom, and I tell her almost everything.

Almost. When I was a little kid, she had to work a lot of night shifts. She left me with a pretty cool babysitter, but Tricia wasn't Mom. She didn't do bedtime the same, and shit didn't give the right hugs and kisses. If I threw a fit, though, Mom would cry, and then I would cry, and it was just terrible. So I would hug her goodbye and start crying after she was gone.

I think Tricia tattled on me, because Mom started doing special stuff with me on the nights that she was home. Every single night, we had Oreos with milk, brush teeth, put on pajamas, and then she would read a chapter of a book to me. Cool books, like the Hobbit, and The Chronicles of Narnia. Just one, no matter how much I begged, except for on my birthday. Then I got two.

But the best part was after the reading, because she would snuggle with me and we would talk about our days. That was when I was still little enough that I told her everything.

Since Joseph and Lily brought me back we've started doing that again. At first it was because I made her. I wanted things to be like they were when I was little and there was no Joseph and Lily, and school and Glee club and Burt and Kurt. It was just me and her. There's some big stupid therapist explanation for that, too, but I don't pay that much attention. I wanted it because I wanted it, so why did that matter? It wasn't like it hurt anyone, and it meant I had Mom and Burt didn't, so I won twice.

She says I can tell her anything about what happened in New Mexico and she won't tell anyone else, even the police, and even Burt. It would be just between me and her.

I had to say something, so I told Mom about them taking me, and about Puck dying, and even a little about what Joseph did to me. Not much, because she's still my Mom and it's gross, but a little.

I had to be careful though, because there are things I don't want to tell her. I know that some of it's going to come out anyway, but I don't even like Mom knowing that I have a working dick; much less that Joseph got me off when he did what he did. You just don't want your Mom to know some things, you know?

It's kind of tricky, though, because then I have to remember both what I didn't tell her and what I did, because it's different with different people. I told Kurt some stuff that I didn't tell Mom, and Mom some stuff that I didn't tell Kurt. I even told Tina something that I didn't tell either one of them, because I know she won't tell on me. The only person I tell everything to is Samantha.

Even though I do think about it a lot, I still mess up sometimes. Like yesterday with Junior. I forgot that I told Kurt that Joseph had sexually abused me, but never physically. That wasn't exactly, true. Usually he left me alone, but if I talked back to him or wouldn't let him do things to me, he would sometimes choke me just like I did to Junior. It hurts, and it's fucking terrifying, but it doesn't leave even a small mark. I don't know if Lily knows that he was doing it to me, or if she would have cared if she did, but we didn't talk about it. It was just like when he raped me, or when he made her do it. It happened, and all three of us move on.

That's the other lie. I know that I told Kurt that Lily only touched me when Joseph made her, but it wasn't always that way. At first it was, but sometimes she would come in and visit with me when he was at work. And by visit, I meant she would have sex with me. Then she would tell me not to tell Joseph. I'm never telling anyone that part, though, not even Kurt. I don't know why I want to protect her and not him, since they're both guilty, but just thinking about it makes my stomach hurt.

It's weird, but sometimes I like going to the garage with Burt, just because I don't have to watch everything I say, and try and remember what I've told him and what I hadn't. With Burt, it's easy because I don't tell him anything. Everything he knows about the case is what the police told him, or what I told Mom and Kurt it was ok to share. Nothing else. It's easier to be around him just because of that.

Sometimes I think the reason that I sleep so much is that my brain just gets full with remembering and wants to shut off.

Kurt was still watching me, and I knew that he was waiting for answer. Since I'm a nice guy, I gave him what he wanted. "I'm kind of scared, too. But I'm trying not to worry about it. It's one of those ready or not things, so I'm not going to get myself all freaked out about it."

That wasn't quite true, either. I am scared, but I'm worried, too. No one's actually said that this whole trial depends on me, but I know that it does. The only ones who know for sure what happened are me and them, and I know that they're going to lie about it. So the only one who knows and can tell the truth is me.

You know, a year ago I thought that pressure was what you felt before the big game. Wrong. Then I thought that it was what happened when we were a day from a major Glee performance, and Rachel decided to change the songs on us. She would get that chick batty look, and it would always make me want to hide somewhere until she was done. That was closer to pressure, but I was still stupid to think that was it.

Turns out that pressure is having to get up in a courtroom in front of a bunch of people, and having to tell them everything that happened in New Mexico. I don't have to say anything extra, but if the lawyers ask it, I have to answer it honestly. No fudging or lying because the answer is embarrassing.

By the way, did I mention that the news crews are going to be there? Apparently this is a big deal case, even outside of Lima. I don't know if it's because he might get the death penalty, or because it's a weird case, or because I was in Newsweek and they want to get an update, but there's going to be a lot of people there. There's going to be vans from all over the state. Because, you know, I'm really looking forward to having everyone in America know everything that they did to me. It's not like I still have a long life to live or anything.

But anyway, once my part is over, I don't have to go to the courtroom any more. I can if I want to, but I'm not sure yet. Mom and Burt weren't going to let me go, but Samantha told them that it was ok and it would be worse for me not to be able to go when I want to. She's got my back like that.

Kurt slid off of my lap and held out his hand. "Can we lie on the bed instead? I'm getting a neck cramp looking at you."

A part of me is kind of hoping that he wants to go over there so I can touch him again, but probably not. I'm not having a very lucky time lately. Sure enough, he still wanted to talk. "Are you going to go every day, or just the ones that you'll be testifying?"

Kurt might be some sort of Jedi or one of the X-men or something. How did he know that I was just thinking about that? "I don't know. I'm still trying to decide."

He doesn't want me to go, I can tell. I love Kurt, but he just doesn't understand how I feel about Joseph and Lily. He tries, but he hates them too much to really listen to what I say about them. I know that he gets like that because he loves me so much and he can't stand to think that anyone treated me bad.

It's not worth it to have the same fight over and over with him, so we just don't talk about it any more. I've tried to tell him about the nice things that they did for me sometimes, but he doesn't really want to hear it.

I know that it's hard to believe, but they did do a lot of things that were pretty cool. Lily's the one who showed me how to cook. Some of the stuff is plain and some is fancy, but I can make a whole dinner by myself now. She never got mad when I messed things up or couldn't read the recipe. She also didn't try and feel me up or anything, which was what Joseph always did when we were alone together. Don't get me wrong, she still did stuff, but at least she gave me a warning beforehand and didn't just grab my junk. A guy can only stand having his ass patted so many times, especially when he doesn't really want it to be patted once. I wouldn't say no if Kurt wanted to do it, but he hasn't asked.

But Joseph could be nice sometimes, too. Usually he was only nice when I was doing something to make him happy, but I still think it should count. Because, you know, he didn't _have_ to do anything nice. It wasn't like I could just get up and leave if I didn't like the way he was treating me. I was stuck. So I really did like it when he showed me how to do some plumbing or electrical work around the house. I was still hoping that I could go home one day, and I didn't know if Burt and Kurt would still be around. So it was good to think that I might be the man of the house again, and that I could take care of Mom if I needed to.

When I first got home, I was pretty disappointed to see them both still there, but now I'm glad. Not just because of me being hot for Kurt all of the sudden, but because it was better for all four of us. Even though she won't come out and say it, Mom gets lonely sometimes, and I know that Burt will treat her ok. When I'm being really honest, I know that he'll treat her more then ok. Kurt needs to have a Mom around to help take care of him and give him hugs and stuff. Burt's ok, but he's not a Mom and he doesn't really do the whole touching thing that much. Kurt likes to pretend that he doesn't like being touched, but, deep down, he does. He never tenses up or tries to get away from Mom if she offers him a hug.

And, yeah, I guess it's good for me, too. I don't mind Burt as much as I used to. I don't always like him, and I especially don't like him when he tells me what to do, but he's alright. It's probably not a bad thing to have him around so he can set a good example about how not all men are perverts.

We're kind of a messed up family, but we're a good one, too. Better then we were when it was just a quarterback, and a nurse, and a mechanic, and Kurt. I have to put his name, because he's too awesome for just one word to describe him.

It's called a gestalt, by the way. It means that when you put us all together, we're much more then when we're all there, but apart. So the Hudson-Hummel family is a much better thing then Finn plus Carole plus Burt plus Kurt.

Josephs the one who told me the word, but I've known about gestalts forever. They totally talked about them in the Care Bears Movie that I used to watch when I was little. They were stronger when they were all together.

"If you want to go to the trial, you should." He fixed my hair, spiking it up and then smoothing it down. When he does that, it makes me want to promise that I'll do anything for him, just so he won't stop. "Finn, don't fall asleep on me."

"I'm not." I tried to think instead of melting into a puddle of goo. "I'm trying to think, that's all."

Suddenly I got really cold, all the way down to my bones. I wrapped one arm around Kurt and pulled his body up against mine, like that would fix it. Like anything was going to fix any of this.

Here's another secret, one that I haven't told anyone. I would have killed myself if I could have figured out how. There was no fucking way that I was going to spend a year or two years or five years as Joseph and Lily's sex slave. Then, when it was over, he would kill me.

I think that he knew it, too. I knew that he had a gun, because he killed Puck with it, but I don't know where he hid it. He had a lock on the all of the sharp knives, and he never let me have a belt or rope or anything that I could hang myself with. I probably wouldn't have done that anyway, because it sounds like it would hurt and that scared me as much as Joseph did.

It's a good thing that I couldn't do it now, since he didn't end up killing me after all, but if I could have found that gun, I would have used it. I've never shot one before, but how hard can it but? Take off the safety, put it up against the soft part of your temple and pull the trigger. As long as I didn't wimp out on the trigger pulling, it shouldn't have hurt at all.

Thinking about committing suicide made me get even more cold chills and a little sick to my stomach. "Can we not talk about this any more, please? Can't we just be quiet for a while?"

"We weren't even talking about-ok. We'll be quiet." He went back to messing with my hair.

I hate to be a jerk, but I knew that he would be quiet if I asked nicely and looked pitiful. He's more likely to call me on my bullshit then Mom or Burt, but he's trying to be super nice right now so I don't flip out right before the trial.

"If Joseph gets off, will you still believe me?" I didn't mean to say it, but I still did.

"Of course I will. I know that you're telling the truth about what happened. All you need to worry about is telling the truth."

"What if you heard something that made me look really bad? Would you still love me?" It was like having the fucking hiccups. I kept trying to stop myself from talking, but the words just kept spitting out.

"There is nothing that you could say that would make me not love you, alright?" He kissed my neck, and that made some of the coldness go away. "Do you want to tell me now, so you won't have to worry about it until you go on?"

I shook my head. No, I don't want to tell him. The thing is, there's more then one thing that he could find out that would make me look bad. I don't know what to tell him or how. Plus, there's always a chance that no one asks the questions and I get off the hook. I'm going to tell Kurt everything eventually, but I don't want to have to do it yet. When it's right, I'll be ok. Hopefully. No definitely. I had to keep thinking happy thoughts about this one.

_If you do, you may learn to fly Peter Pan._

Sometimes I think that that voice in my head proves I really am crazy, and sometimes I think that it means I'm ok. If I'm worried about the voice, then I must be ok. Because if I wasn't ok, then I would think that the voice was normal. It's a 22-catcher, but one that works in my favor right now.

"I know you can do it, Finn. I've never doubted you for a minute." He kissed the back of my neck and rubbed my hip.

It's not that I think he's lying, because I don't. Kurt's just kind of weird sometimes. Right now he's really optimistic and acts like nothing in the world can go wrong. Then he can get really down like nothing will ever go right again.

I think that Kurt would be really mad if I said this out loud, but it's probably a good thing that he sees a therapist, too. I would listen to him, but I'm not an expert on shit like this. That and I know that he won't be honest with me. Kurt feels like he has to protect me from things, even though that's not true. Well, not any more. When I first got back, I needed him to do that, but now I don't. Now I want us to be equal. "I'm glad that you love me."

That wasn't exactly what he had said, but it was close enough. Part of loving someone is believing in them, and I knew that Kurt did. "And I know that I can do this."

I wasn't lying either. It wasn't just that I could do this, but that I had to. For Puck, and for the other people that were dead now because of the Wrights.

That's another thing I've never told Kurt. I know some of the names of the other people that they killed. Danny, Lucas, Simone, Jessie, Jacob, Ellie. No one told me those names, but I found some stuff with their names on it. Yeah, they could be friends or family members, but I know that they aren't. I told the police, and they said they'd follow up, but I don't know where it's going from there. I kind of don't want to know, honestly. I got really lucky to get out, and it hurts to think that someone else didn't.

Kurt scratched my shoulder, exactly how I like it. "What do you say that we skip homework tonight and just snuggle?"

He's a freak about homework, so I know that he's only saying that to make me feel better. But I'm willing to take it. I was already sleepy, and he was making it even worse. "Kay."

Right when I was almost asleep, he whispered in my ear. "I love you, Finn."

It was almost like a bolt of lightening shot over my head, because, after all this time, that was the minute I was 100% sure I loved him back. Holy shit, what did I do now?


	46. Chapter 46

_**A/N: I am not a lawyer, nor do I play one on TV. I've tried here, but I may have a few things wrong. Please suspend your belief and enjoy the chapter ;)**_

_**Speak the truth, even if your voice shakes**_

_**Unknown**_

It's only 6 am, and I've already had three cups of coffee. In retrospect, I was tightly wound enough that even one would have been too many. My heart was pounding in my chest, and the sight of my breakfast oatmeal almost made me throw up.

Finn, on the other hand, was calmly tucking away a small dish of oatmeal as well as several eggs and some bacon. He even nibbled at the sliced fruit that Carole offered. How could he be so laid back about this? This day would set the tone of the entire trial, and he was acting like none of this was any big deal.

"Can I have a Coke with breakfast?" He was balancing a comic book next to his plate. "I already drank my milk."

"Go ahead." Dad had been reading the same page of the paper for 20 minutes. "But just one, because you don't get any bathroom breaks once court starts."

"Fine." He grabbed a can from the fridge and sat back down.

This could have been any day, with any family. Dad reading the paper, Mom cooking eggs, one teen begging for soda with breakfast, and the other picking through his food. We were totally normal, except we weren't, and why was I the only one seeing this?

Maybe it was just Dad and I who were nervous because we were the only two likely to testify today. Carole wasn't going to be called at all, and I knew that they were saving Finn for last. Dad was pretty much useless, but the defense had wanted him so they could discuss the fact that, yes, there was a gun in the house, and then they could fight with the prosecution over whether or not Finn could have possibly accessed said gun. We all already knew that it wasn't the gun that had killed Puck, not even the same type, but the question that the defense wanted to put into everyone's minds was that Finn could have been shooting it for practice.

As the last person who was confirmed to have seen Finn before he met up with the Wrights, I was going to be important in determining his state of mind that night. Just the thought of having to re-live that night made my stomach flip again. But I had to do this for Finn, and for Puck, too.

Since breakfast was apparently going to be a lost cause, I decided to get dressed. Finn followed me like a puppy, still clutching his can of soda. While I was getting my suit down from the closet, he rested a hand on my back. "I'm really sorry that I can't be there for you."

That was another thing that was making me nervous. Due to the rules of the court, Finn was not permitted in the courtroom until after he had testified himself. I could see that they did that to prevent him from either getting confused or deliberately changing his testimony, but I still wished that Finn could be there. At least I would be able to be there for him.

The original plan had been to leave both Finn and Carole at home, but Finn had freaked out the minute that was suggested. He wanted to go to the courtroom and be with his family, even if that meant doing nothing but sitting in a room with all of the other people who wouldn't be testifying that day. No matter what any of us tried, he was utterly unmovable on the subject.

I hated to see Finn upset, but I did find the moment to be interesting. The 'family' that he was so adamant about staying with was Dad and I. Somehow, we had managed to meld ourselves into a reasonably cohesive family unit.

I hugged his side as tightly as I could. "It's alright. Your mother will be there, and Dad, too. You just worry about you."

He looked hurt. "But I have to worry about you, too. Otherwise I'd be kind of a sucky boyfriend."

"You're an excellent boyfriend." When I rubbed his back, I could feel his heart pounding against my hand. Despite his outward calm, he was as nervous as I was, probably more so.

"I wish I was going to testify today. I would rather go first then have to wait." He squirmed nervously.

I hadn't considered that, but he was right. Finn would have to wait four days at minimum, and even longer if things ran long or we went over more then one weekend. If I had to wait that long, knowing that terrible things were being said about me…I didn't even want to think about it.

Finn dressed quietly, allowing me to smooth his shirt and tie his tie for him. No, he wouldn't be testifying today, but the cameras would be there, watching him. He had mostly avoided them so far, by staying home as best he could and never leaving the house at the same time each day. Lima's a small town, and no one was going to pay a cameraman to hang around our house on the off chance that they might be able to catch a sound bite from Finn.

I dressed in front of the mirror, wondering when dressing and undressing in front of Finn had become such a non-issue.

_My guess would be about the time that you figured out that the real problems in your lives have way overwhelmed those piddly little things that worried you before. Besides, deep down, you like showing off for him._

That was true. I still wasn't exactly sure what Finn saw in my body, especially when you compared it to his, but he was clearly happy. In my darker moments, though, I wondered if part of his happiness was that I was so small and skinny. I was strong, and had some muscle, but it wasn't the visibly bulging kind. Joseph on the other hand, was stocky, with tan skin and the sort of bulging arms that led me to believe that he was thickly muscled across the rest of his body as well. Maybe Finn liked me so much because I was the complete opposite of his abuser.

My hands trembled as I knotted my tie, causing me to have to loosen it and try again twice. If I couldn't even do this at home, what made me think that I wasn't going to fall apart on the stand?

Behind me, I saw Finn rise and creep over. He rested his chin on top of my head, studying our reflections. "I'm really sorry, Kurt."

"For what?"

"I'm sorry that you have to testify today because of me. I don't want you to be scared."

Sometimes it was easier to hold his eyes in the mirror then it was to do it if I was looking at his face. "Don't be sorry, because this isn't your fault. It's their fault, and I don't wasn't you to think differently."

His forehead wrinkled. "I know that it isn't my fault. But you still have to testify because of me. It's not because I did anything wrong, because I didn't, but you still have to go because of me, and it's not right." He gave a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. "But it kind of is what it is. Hey, how about you and I do some stuff when we get home?"

The sudden change in topic confused me for a minute, and I gaped at him. He grinned, that half-smirk that I had been missing lately. "I meant, like, sex stuff, not homework stuff."

I had gotten that part, but it shocked me to hear him say it so baldly. His progress was slow, but it was steady, and that was all that anyone could ask for. I reached for the hand on my shoulder and twined my fingers with his. "Lets see how both of us feel after court, but right now that sounds good."

He smiled and backed off, going to look for something in his nightstand. He pulled out a small box and handed it over. "It's kind of stupid, and I know it's probably now all fancy like you would have picked, but I got you a present."

The fact that he had thought about me enough to get a gift made my eyes well up. "I'm sure it's not stupid."

It wasn't wrapped, but it was in a jewelry box. I popped it open and caught my breath. No, the necklace inside wasn't something I would have chosen for myself, but it was very beautiful. I ran my fingers over the silver hummingbird pendant. "Why a hummingbird?'

"They make me think of you." He ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "They're little and everyone thinks that they're all fragile and shit, but they aren't. When they need to, they fight. Plus, they're pretty like you."

I hugged Finn as tightly as I could, trying to absorbs some of his love. And, yes, this was love. Maybe not the kind that could tell me about and maybe he didn't even realize it yet, but there was no reason for this gesture except that he loved me. "Thank you, Finn. It's lovely."

I startled when he took my hand a flipped it over so my palm was facing upwards. He pulled out a sharpie and scrawled something in tiny letters on the skin. I had to put it up closer to my face to read what he had written. FINN. He had put his name of me. I raised and eyebrow, and he shrugged again. "So I'll be with you, even when I'm not."

The chain was long enough that the little bird was hidden under my shirt. That pleased me, not so much because I was ashamed of the token, but because it was something shared between Finn and I only.

As usual, Finn and I rode in the backseat while Dad and Carole sat up front. He held my hand, staring straight ahead. I wanted to ask what he was thinking, or if he was alright, but I didn't. Obviously he wasn't alright, and I wasn't sure I truly wanted to know what was going on in his mind.

At the courthouse, cameras flashed and reporters called out questions that had no answers. No, none of us were telling them what had happened. No, Finn would neither confirm nor deny the rumors of rape and other abuses. No, I wasn't going to talk about the night of the kidnapping.

Dad had one hand on my back, pushing me forward and through the doors. A limited number of reporters would be allowed inside, but the hallways were empty. Space was at a premium, and the lucky few allowed into the courtroom were already inside, jostling for the best seats.

Finn hugged me tightly when it was time for us to part, but in a brotherly way only. Before today, I wouldn't have really realized there was a difference, but it was obvious. His body remained slightly apart from mine, and he gave my back a few rough pats instead of the tender strokes I had gotten used to. "Good luck, Kurt."

A year ago, I would have known that I didn't need luck. I was telling the truth, and I was right. What else did I need?

Now I knew better. This wasn't about who was telling the truth, and it certainly wasn't about who was right. If it had been, Joseph and Lily would have just pled guilty right off. No, this was about who could spin the best story, and who was the most believable on the stand. I could get up there, and describe what had happened that night to the last detail, and if the jury chose not to believe me, I was sunk.

Except it wouldn't only be me who was sunk, it would be Finn as well. And if Finn wasn't believed about the kidnapping…I didn't even want to think about it. All of his progress over the past few months would be destroyed. We would be lucky if it didn't destroy him period.

Those of us unlucky enough to testify today were sent to a back room until we were called. Besides Dad and I, there was the owner of the bowling alley, two kids that looked about our age and-oh God. I was less then 10 feet away from Pucks mother, Nancy.

I wanted to hide behind Dad, but she had already seen us and was walking over. None of us had seen her since Finn had come home, though I know that Carole had spoken to her on the phone on several occasions. Other then one time, Finn had never asked about her or indicated that he wanted to see her. What was she going to say to me? What was I supposed to say to her?

She stopped a few feet away and greeted us softly. Dad gave her a quick hug, while I mumbled a 'hello' with my face down. I had mentally prepared for dozens of scenarios, but this wasn't one of them.

"How's Finny doing? Is he alright?" She didn't meet our eyes, which was a relief. I couldn't have stood to see what was deep within them.

Dad spoke up. "Finn's doing alright. He's made a lot of improvements and we're hoping to get him back in school by January."

"That's good. I'm glad to hear that he's doing well."

I had to remember that Nancy had known Finn since he was barely 6 years old. Neither she nor Carole could afford daycare when their sons were small. So Finn had spent countless nights over at the Puckerman's house when Carole worked late. Nancy had picked him up from school when he was sick and his own mother couldn't come home. Surely she had held him after a nightmare, stroked his hair when he was throwing up, and put a million band-aids on scrapes and bruises. It was normal for her to want to know about him now.

But she hadn't seen him since he had been home. She hadn't asked to him when she called, hadn't even sent a card to let him know that she was still thinking about him, even if it was too hard for he to see him face to face and not see Puck as well.

"I'm sure that he would love to see you again. He misses you." Dad was flustered, but trying.

She nodded. "There are….Noah had some things that I think he would have wanted Finn to have. There's no point in me keeping them any more."

I knew how hard it was to give up mementos of someone you've lost, no matter how small. I was still clinging to that old, broken, dresser. Dad knew it, too. "I'm sure there are some things that he would like to have. Would this weekend be too soon?"

I never heard her reply, because my name was being called. Dad squeezed me tightly, and I wanted to cling to him and never let go. "Just tell the truth, Kurt, and look for Carole. She'll be there to support you."

Somehow, I found the strength to get up and follow the guard down the hall. There's a special name of these guards, but that name, as well as every other fact I had ever learned, had flown out of my mind.

At the doors, I straightened up and pulled my shoulders back. No matter what happened, I would be strong on the stand and not cry. I walked to the stand and climbed up, looking from one lawyer to the other. Now that it was down to the wire, I couldn't remember who would speak first. I was starting to freak out, and nothing had happened yet.

The prosecutor noticed my panic started out gently, asking my full name and age.

My voice caught the first time, and I had to clear my throat and try again. "Kurt Anthony Hummel, and I'm 17."

"Is it alright if I call you Kurt?"

"Yes." I couldn't imagine him addressing me as an adult, since I had seldom felt so small and young.

"When's your birthday, Kurt?" His voice was coaxing, and I knew that he was trying to get me a little more comfortable before we got to the hard part.

"March 29th, 1994." Ok, I could do this. This was easy.

"And what is your relationship to Finn Hudson?"

This was the moment of truth. Could I lie so well that I would fool not only the lawyers, but the jury as well? "He's my brother. My stepbrother. Well, not even that. His mother is my father's girlfriend. But I knew him before that, too."

_Elegant._

"Let's back up a bit. Why don't you describe how you met Finn, and let's go from there."

What he really wanted was for me to slow down and get my facts straight. "He and I are the same age, so we've always been in the same grade at school. But I didn't really know him until this year, when he joined the Glee club. We became friends from that, and then our parents started dating, so we spent a lot of time together. Now we live together."

"And the two of you are close?"

"Yes." I wanted to say more, to justify and explain myself, but I held back. Finn had been told to answer nothing but the question at hand in as few words as possible. If the lawyer wanted clarification, he would ask for it.

He let that particular matter go. "Ok, Kurt. In your own words, I want you to tell me what happened on the night Finn was allegedly kidnapped."

This was a more open-ended question, and it scared me. What if I said too much? What if I said too little? I took a deep breath and prayed that my voice wouldn't crack. "Dad and Carole were going on a date. Carole is Finn's Mom. I was staying home, and Finn was going bowling with Puck."

"How did you know that Finn was going bowling? Did he tell you that?" The interruption was gentle, but it still threw me off. How had I known that?

"He told me." My hands clasped each other so tightly my knuckles were white.

"What exactly did he say?"

Suddenly I knew where this was going, and that knowledge helped me relax. I always do better when I have some idea of what was coming. "He invited me along. I didn't go, because I felt like I would be a third wheel. So he said that he and I would watch a movie when he got back." The image of Finn's face that night was burned into my brain. The way his eyes looked, so hopeful that we could sort things out and be friends again. There was nothing like the wariness and sometimes outright fear that I see now. "He promised he would be back by 1 in the morning." Now my voice did crack, but I was able to keep the tears at bay. Crying would not only make me look bad, but might hurt Finn's case as well.

"What happened then?" He was moving quickly, almost too quickly.

"Puck came and got him. I waited for him to come home, but he didn't. He was just gone."

"And what did you do?"

I squirmed, unable to look over at Carole. By the time Finn was late getting home, it would have been too late for me to help him, no matter what I might have tried. But I had had no way of knowing that. Finn could have been late because he and Puck had been in a car accident and been injured, or they could have been stranded on the side of the road.

Granted, it was more likely that they were holed up somewhere drinking, or spending the night with some girls, but there had been no way for me to know that. I hadn't done as much as I could have, not because I thought he was out raising hell, but because I was angry with him, and I was in a snit. That pettiness was something I would have to live with for the rest of my life.

"I called him a few times, but he didn't answer. Then I called the hospital, to make sure that he hadn't been in an accident. I called Puck, and he didn't pick up either. I thought they just didn't feel like coming home and thought he wouldn't get caught since Dad and Carole weren't home. He knew I would cover for him." Based on our last conversation that night, Finn knew that I would do just about anything to get back in his good graces.

The defense lawyer nodded and moved on. "When did you know that something w as wrong?"

"He still wasn't there the next morning, but Dad and Carole were. If he had been sneaking out, he would have made sure that he was back before they were."

"And what did you do then?"

His measured questions were trying to lull me into a sense of security, but I wouldn't let them. It didn't matter so much with this man, but the defense lawyer would do everything in his power to get me calm and trusting so he could lure me into a trap. "We called all of his friends, and Puck's mother, but no one had seen him at all. So we called the police."

He turned to the jury. "We'll be hearing from the police shortly. I'd like to skip ahead with Kurt. How long was Finn gone?"

"Four months."

"Did he call? Send a letter? Drop and email to let you know that he was ok? Anything?"

"No." His words brought back the fear and uncertainty that we had lived with for months on end. Was Finn alive? Dead? Would we ever know, or would we just spend the rest of our lives both hoping for and dreading a knock at the door? "He was just gone."

"So what you're telling me is that your friend Finn, who you had known for quite some time, and were as close to as a brother, just walked away from your family?"

"No, he didn't. They stole him." The words came out softly, and without thought.

Objections immediately started flying from the defense lawyers. The prosecutor fought back, and there was a brief conference with the judge. Finally they both took their places and things went on as usual.

"Tell me what happened when you saw Finn again."

Which time? My hands tightened, and I felt some of my fingernails break through the skin. I couldn't speak, and I suddenly knowhow Finn had felt for so long. It took three tries for me to clear my throat and speak. "Do you mean on the video or in person?"

"In person. We don't need to worry about the video right now."

Ok, that I could do. "I was staying at my friend's house, but I had to come home and pick up some clothes. I walked up to the house, and he was just sitting on the porch, like it was any other day."

"Did he tell you where he had been?"

"No. He didn't say anything to anyone for a long time. He didn't talk at all." The memory of that horror brought tears to my eyes, and I dabbed them with a tissue from the box that had been helpfully placed under the witness stand. "It was like he was back, but he wasn't."

"But Finn did talk to you eventually, didn't he? Tell everyone what he said happened."

I was crying steadily now. "He…he….he said that he and Puck-"

"Objection! Hearsay!" There was another conference with the judge, and this time the objection was sustained. The jury was told to disregard my last remark, and I was warned not to mention Puck again.

I know why they do that. Puck had not been taken. He was part of the murder case, and this was the kidnapping case. Bringing Puck into it was unfairly prejudicial. It was silly, since everyone in the country knew about the connection, but I guess that's just the way our justice system works. There was also the fact that I had neither seen nor heard Puck's murder that night. I knew about it because Finn had told me, but without being there myself, I didn't get to talk about it. Finn would undoubtedly be asked, and the Wrights, but I get it, and I usually agree with it, but when it's someone you love who suffers from it, it's really hard to accept.

"Kurt, can you try again?"

"He said that he was in the car and he saw Lily flagged him down. He walked over to her car, and Joseph was inside. He had a gun and-"I stopped there, because I was about to bring up Puck again. How was I supposed to say this without mentioning Puck? "Finn was looking at the gun, and Lily tasered him and forced him into the car. Then they drove him to New Mexico."

"So, in Finn's own words, to his brother that he loves very much, he was forced into a stranger's car that night?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, Kurt. You've done a wonderful job, and I'm going to hand you over to the defense now. I'll be speaking to you again afterwards."

This had been the easy part, and I was already crying and bloody. Now came the hard part. The defense attorney rose and stepped up in front of me. "Hey, there. Can I call you Kurt as well?"

Even though I knew that he was just doing his job, it was hard not to hate this man. If he had his way, Joseph and Lily would walk free. But I didn't want to start out hostile, so I nodded. "Yes."

"Thank you. I know that this is hard for you, and that you want to protect your brother."

In other words, he was telling the jury that I was willing to lie for Finn, so don't believe what I was saying. I stared him down, which was one of my better responses to a bully. Usually I had something nasty to add as well, but I was in a courthouse, not the schoolyard.

"Let's go back to the last night Finn was home. Isn't it true that he was having some problems at home?"

_One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, four one thousand_. "Nothing major."

"But there was tension at home?"

I mentally counted again. "Little things. He and Carole had just moved in with us, and it was an adjustment for everyone. He had never had a brother or a father, and it was a strange house."

"Finn had talked about running away from home before, though, hadn't he?" His tone was conversational, but I wasn't going to fall for it.

"No."

"No? But that's not what you told the police the day after he disappeared." He handed me a piece of paper. "Can you read what you said about halfway down?"

I skimmed the paragraph and inwardly let loose a barrage of curse words. I barely even remembered that interview, much less what I had said. "This is Lima, Ohio. Everyone talks about running away at some point."

That was all that was on that line. I still couldn't remember saying that, but I was sure that Finn had never been serious. "My mistake. But I couldn't have possibly taken him seriously at the time."

There's a rule among lawyers that you never ask a question that you don't already know the answer to. This lawyer didn't want to ask me how I was so sure, but I had managed to arouse everyone's curiosity with my answer. If he didn't ask, he looked really bad. "Why do you feel that way?"

"Because I would have begged him to take me with." It was the truth. If there had been even the slightest indication that Finn was about to bolt for good, I would have parked myself right next to him and refused to be shaken off. Things in Lima might be hard for him sometimes, but for me they were pure hell.

He moved on quickly. "There was something else going on, though, wasn't there Kurt? Something that had Finn afraid in his own home?"

It was a rhetorical question, so I didn't answer. My mind was spinning, trying to remember what else I had said that day. There had been something else, something worse…

"Where was Finn sleeping at your house?" Again, with that false comraderarie.

Alarm bells rang, but there was nothing I could do about it. I was stuck on this stand, and he could ask whatever he wanted. "He and I were sharing a room. Dad was going to put an addition up so Finn could have his own bedroom, but we had to share for a little bit."

"Did he like sharing a room with you?" His voice was honey sweet.

I counted again, feeling sweat break out on the back of my neck. When I spoke, though, my voice was steady. "No." I wanted to blurt out more, but I didn't. I was sure that he would ask.

"Why not?" He didn't disappoint.

"He'd never shared a room before and neither had I. My alarm went off too early for him, and he went to bed too early for me. He played the drums and I yelled at him about the noise. I had my friends over and he hated that he didn't have anywhere to get away from us."

_Really Kurt? That's not what the major problem was and you know it. You know who else knows it? This man. It's his job to know the ins and outs of this case, and he's very good at what he does. You're sunk, my friend_.

Now that I was several months removed from the situation I was no longer sure what Finn's biggest problem was. My flirting hadn't helped, but was that the worst part of this? I suspected that while Finn was upset about that, it was much bigger then a moist towelette. It was about the total loss of control over his own life. No one asked him how he felt about moving, or sharing a room, or gaining an instant family. He and Carole had always been a team, but he was suddenly replaced by Dad and I. And when he tried to object, he was summarily ignored. All he had left was his own body, and he was afraid that I would take that as well.

The tragedy was, that Finn ended up losing it anyway, and in a way more brutal then he could have imagined.

In retrospect, I could see where there was fault on both sides. I had bitched and nagged, and Finn had responded by shutting down. Neither one of us was willing to bend or try and fix things. It had only been a few days and our quiet house had become a war zone. How much longer would it have taken to explode?

"Are you gay?" I was expecting the question, but it still felt like a punch in the stomach.

The prosecutor objected loudly, stating that my sexuality was of no consequence to this trial. For the third time, they spoke at the bench, and the prosecutor lost again. The judge instructed me to answer the question.

I squared my shoulders and kept my chin up. No matter what, I wouldn't let this man shame me. "Yes. I'm gay."

"Is Finn?"

I wouldn't commit perjury, but that didn't mean I had to tell the entire truth either. I'm very good at being evasive. "Finn likes girls. He even thought he had gotten one pregnant. He's not gay."

He wasn't entirely straight either, but I knew that his preference would always be girls. I was an aberration. Not that I think there's anything false about his affection for me, but I don't think that he would willing be with any other man.

"You were attracted to him, weren't you?"

I had known that this would come up, and had thought carefully about my answer. "Yes. Finn's cute, but he's so gentle and caring. He never wants to make anyone upset or sad and that's a sweet trait. I was attracted to that. Who wouldn't be?"

I snuck a peek at the jury. Were they disgusted or were they listening to what I was saying? Would a caring person who never wanted to make anyone upset just up and leave his family for no real reason? Or was something else preventing him from contacting us? Maybe something that was sitting in the defendant's box, not 15 feet in front of me?

"How did Finn feel about having to share a room with a gay man who had an obvious crush on him?"

_Be honest. If you aren't honest, he's going to know, and he's going to call you out. Then everyone else is going to wonder what else you've been dishonest about. _

Every once in a while, that voice came up with a good suggestion. This was going to make me look bad, but I had to admit that my behavior hadn't exactly been perfect. "He didn't like it."

"He didn't like it. The truth is, Kurt, that Finn was miserable at home, wasn't he? He didn't like where he was living, he didn't like who he was living with, and he couldn't get anyone to listen to him when he told them that. He was afraid to go to bed at night. So he decided he would just leave. Isn't that the truth?"

"No." The stupid tears were starting again, but I gave up on forcing them back. I needed all of my mental energy to do battle with this guy. "Finn wouldn't just leave."

A good defense attorney knows that there's a very fine line to walk. I was small and cute, and looked much younger then I actually was. If he kept pushing me, he would look like a monster who was badgering a crying child. His point was already made, anyway. Finn was miserable in his life and scared that his creepy gay roommate was going to rape him in the middle of the night. Who would want to live like that? Even the streets might be better.

So he backed off a bit. "I'd like to go back to the night Finn disappeared. What time would you say he left the house that night?"

"Around 8." If there was one thing I was sure of, it was the timeline.

"And what time was he expected be home?"

"By one. Carole was really clear on that."

"So his own mother made it clear to Finn that he was to be home by a certain time or face the consequences?" At my nod, he kept going. "You love your brother Finn, right? The two of you are best buddies and spend a lot of time together?" I nodded again. "So why on earth would you not call the police when he came up missing?"

"I…I thought that he and Puck were going to stay out all night. I didn't think that there was anything wrong."

He nodded and moved on, but we both knew that he had scored a heavy point. Here I was claiming that Finn was happy, loved, and wanted in his home and had no reason to want to disappear. But I hadn't even bothered to call the police when a 16 year old boy didn't come home. No wonder he charged so much. "You've already covered the day Finn came home, so I'm going to skip ahead. I want to talk about the night that Finn talked to you. Can you tell me how it came that he left the Wrights? What did he tell you?"

"They dropped him off." This was one of the sticking points of the case. Why would the Wrights take Finn, only to return him just as suddenly? He was 17 years old, not 17 months. He knew their names, and where they lived, and could easily identify them. The fact that they had let him come home, relatively unharmed, certainly made it appear as if they were telling the truth about what had happened. They had picked Finn up hitchhiking, and taken him in when it seemed to have no one else. Then, when he got lonely and wanted to go home, they took him right back where they had found him.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that." After enough brutality and abuse to destroy someone several times over, but I couldn't bring that up. This was about the kidnapping, not the rapes or abuse. If I tried to bring them up, there would be more objections and everyone would be ordered to disregard anything I said.

Not that it really mattered. Everyone already knew that Puck had been murdered that night, and that Finn had been raped and abused. They weren't supposed to take it into account, but they couldn't unknow it. So me coming right out with it was unessescery.

"If they 'stole' Finn, to borrow your phrase, why would they just drop him off? They even took him right to the house. Why wouldn't they be afraid of being caught with their kidnap victim sitting right to them in their car?"

"Objection! Calls for speculation!" The defense lawyer was back on his feet.

"Withdrawn. Thank you, Kurt, you've been very helpful today. I'm going to give you back over to Mr. Robison.

Once he said the name, I not only recalled that that was the prosecutor, but that his own name was Mr. Samuels, and we were sitting under the Honorable Judge Dale. The names flooded back like they had never been lost.

I stared into his eyes, wondering about him. He had to know that there was no way Finn had voluntarily walked off with these people. It had happened exactly like Finn said it had, with murder and the kidnapping. So why was he defending these people? Money? The challenge of getting a guilty person off? Something far darker?

_How about he does it because that's the way our justice system works? You might not like it, but they have the right to a defense. This man is what's standing between the country and mob justice. Think off all the people who are found guilty with no trial, no evidence, nothing. He's providing something that is guaranteed by the constitution though I'm sure the money doesn't hurt._

Mr. Robison stood back up. "I promise Kurt, we're almost done here. Would you like a tissue?"

I had barely realized that I was crying again. I had promised myself that I wouldn't do it, but I had had enough. This lawyer had done serious damage to our case, and I hadn't been able to stop it. I nodded and wiped my face. No matter how bad things were, I was not going to blow my nose in front of a hundred people, not to mention any news cameras recording this.

"Are you alright to continue, or would you like a short break?"

It was a thoughtful question, but if I got off of this stand, I would never make it back on. "No, I'm fine."

"This shouldn't take long. I'm just going to clarify a few points here. I know that it's embarrassing, but can we talk about you flirting with Finn."

"Yeah." I wiped my nose. "We can talk about that."

"There's something that Mr. Samuels failed to mention, wasn't there? Tell me what you and Finn talked about right before he was kidnapped."

Every word of that conversation was permanently burned into my brain. "He called me out on flirting with him. I was scaring him and he wanted me to leave him alone."

"He told you that/? He actually looked right at you and told you that he knew you were being a little aggressive, and he wanted you to back off?"

"Yes." It still hurt, even so many months later. I loved Finn, I had always loved Finn, and I hated the fact that I had upset him.

"What did you say back to him?" Why did he insist on drawing my humiliation out in front of everyone?

"I apologized, and he accepted. We were going to start over." I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if Finn really had come home that night. Could we have actually moved on from what had happened and been alright? He would have tried to get past the fact that I had a massive crush on him, and I would have tried to treat him as nothing more then the stepbrother I was sharing a room with. We both would have put in as much effort as possible.

But could we have succeeded? Probably not. The trust between us was broken, and broken trust is one of the hardest things to fix. Without some enormous intervening event, it would have taken years to get back to where we had been at the beginning of the year when he had just laughed when I smacked him on the ass during 'Push It'. Years that we didn't have. Soon high school would be over, and we would go to different colleges. We might talk on the phone occasionally, but would probably only see each other if we both went home for the holidays. Once we had our own families, it would probably be even less then that.

His kidnapping changed all of that. What the Wrights had done to him had damaged his ability to trust anyone, where he had previously been so gentle and naïve. He was terrified. Then they brought him back, but the one person in the world that he could always count on, Carole, was gone. He went to me on that porch, not because he trusted me, but because I was the only familiar face in his living nightmare.

That's not to say that our relationship didn't deepen into real trust, or that it wasn't strong now, because it had and it was. But it would be pure foolishness to think that we would be where we were today if Finn had come home that night to watch a movie.

_You wouldn't be in this courtroom, either. By the way, you just missed a question._

I realized that everyone was staring at me, and that voice was right. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"I asked if you felt like things were turning a corner between you." His eyes were suddenly worried, and I knew that he wanted me off the stand before I did something stupid. I was clearly not as focused as I had been, and was thus a loose cannon.

"I thought things were going to get better between us. I really wanted us to be able to be a family." Maybe not the family I had originally hoped for when I hooked our parents up as a means to get to Finn, but a family all the same.

"Do you think Finn felt the same way?"

"Yes." Either that or he was the world's best actor. The way the hope had had bloomed in his eyes when I agreed to back off told me that he had wanted this to work as badly as I had. "He wanted us to be able to be together." I realized what I had said and inwardly cringed. "I mean, together as a family, not together like as boyfriends. Just…just a family and-"

_ Shut up, shut up, shut up! God, you were doing so well, too. _

Yep, I had been babbling at the top of my lungs again. I clamped my mouth shut, praying I wasn't doing that deer-in-the-headlights thing I tended to do when I was freaked out.

_Goodbye conviction_.

"Why would he run away, then? According to his you, the ones who loved him best, things were looking very good for Finn."

"He wouldn't." I didn't know how many times I would have to say it. "Finn wouldn't have run away from home."

"I'm going to move on to the day Finn came home and you took him to the hospital. Did you see any injuries on Finn that day?"

Finally, something that wasn't humiliating, and that I didn't have to worry about answering wrong. "Yes. His wrists were really, really bruised all the way around. Just layers of dark purple bruises, one over the other. It was horrible." Even now the memory had me rubbing at my own wrists.

"His wrists were bruised all the way around. Like someone had tied him up or restrained him maybe? Did you see any other injuries?"

I closed my eyes and pictured Finn at the hospital. There was something else important….I suddenly remembered. "His fingernails were all broken. Not like he was chewing on them, but way down to where you knew it had to be painful."

I had a sudden mental image of Finn sitting in that broom closet, knowing that they planned to kill him that very night. He must have struggled so hard to free himself from the handcuffs. Hard enough to break his nails and leave bruises and not even care. The desperation he must have felt tore at my heart.

"Anything else?"

I thought again. Finn had been at a normal weight, he hadn't been bruised other then his wrists. No cuts anywhere on his body. "He had a mark on his neck from being hit with a Taser."

"A Taser?" He acted shocked, like he hadn't known all of this already. "Wow. Most of the guests I have don't need some help from a Taser to stick around."

When I was a little kid, only three or four years old, my mother took me on a day trip to a working farm. I had gotten overexcited at the sight of the ponies, and grabbed the electric fence before my mother could stop me. While only borderline painful, the resulting surprise shock had me in my mothers arms sobbing. A jolt from a Taser had to be many times that painful and frightening, and Finn had no one to hold him afterwards.

"Thank you, Kurt. I've got no further questions."

That was it? But there were things that I didn't get a chance to say, because no one asked me. Why hadn't our lawyer asked about the hospital, or emphasized Finn's not talking, or his fear of leaving the house, or…or…or….

_I'm sure he's thought of all of those things. But remember, you aren't the only witness here. There are doctors and nurses to talk about the hospital, and Samantha to testify as to Finn's mental state. There are plenty of people here to fill in the blanks, so relax. You need to quit being such a control freak._

I felt almost like I was in a trance when I stepped off of the witness stand. Things were bright and the sounds were echoing and strange. I just wanted to collect Finn and go home.

Carole had her arm around my shoulders as soon as I reached her, and led me out. I wasn't crying any more, but I was doing that stupid sniffling/breath-hitching thing that made me sound about four years old.

The worst part was, it wasn't over yet. As much as I wanted to leave, we still had to wait for Dad to testify. If it was a true emergency, I could convince Carole to let me drive Finn and I home, and come back for them when Dad was done, but this didn't quite qualify. I was going to have to suck it up and stick this one out.

According to Carole, Finn had been left contentedly chatting with a police officer whom I only vaguely recognized. He wasn't a big player in our case, so he must be testifying for a different one. It was strange to think that there were other cases going on in this very building, and that, while Finn's kidnapping had blown our family apart, it wasn't even a blip on the radar screen for the people in the other courtrooms. They were dealing with their own personal hells.

Finn must have been peeking out the door at every set of footsteps, because he was flying down the hallway so he could bounce off Carole and give me a hug before spinning away. I swear, my boyfriend is like a human ping-pong ball. '

Unfortunately, his happiness only served to compound my misery. How happy would Finn be if he knew that I had let the defense attorney destroy me in there? I hugged him tightly, laying my head on his shoulder. "I messed up in there."

He pushed me back a little so he could look into my eyes. "Did you lie?"

What did that have to do with anything? Finn knew as well as I did that the truth meant nothing in a case like this. I wiped my eyes again. "I didn't lie."

"Then you didn't mess up. You worry too much." He squeezed me one last time and released, ever mindful of who might be watching. "You didn't screw it up, I promise."

I very badly wanted that to be true, but I knew that my credibility, and by extension that of the entire defense case had taken a serious hit. But I didn't want to disturb Finn's optimism, so I said nothing.

Carole looked from one of us to the other. "Are you boys going to be alright if I go back to the courtroom? Burt should be on the stand soon."

I left it up to Finn, who shrugged and nodded. "It's ok, Mom. Kurt and I will keep each other company."

We sat together on one of the tables, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. I laid my head on his shoulder, feeling how solid he was and drawing comfort from it. After a few beats, he reached over and took my hand in his. He didn't say anything, and I didn't feel like I could speak either. Our silence hung between us, almost like a heavy sheet.

So connected and together, but still alone, we sat and waited for the day to be over.


	47. Chapter 47

_"__When one has one's hand full of truth, it is not always wise to open it."—French Proverb_

"Finnegan Jacob Hudson. You will get down from there right now." The vehemence in Carole's voice told me that this wasn't the first, or even the third time he had been told to move. Idly, I wondered what he was standing on this time. The kitchen counters? The dining room table? The roof? All seemed like equally plausible possibilities.

I pulled the blanket over my head and pressed against my arms. I knew that I needed to get up and go help, but I just couldn't. Nearly a week of this and we were all at the end of our ropes.

"Now!" It wasn't loud, but there was no mistaking the threat.

A loud thud came from upstairs, the sound of Finn jumping off of whatever he had been perched on. "Go sit."

She wouldn't send him downstairs for punishment, because we had all learned that that only revved him up further. With most tantrums, as lack of audience calmed the situation until the person could get themselves back under control.

A year ago, and even two weeks ago, that would have worked with Finn as well. His temper can flare and be quite ugly when it does, but mostly it burns itself out quickly. He knows it as well, and generally stomps off to be alone until he can be calm again.

Now, though, being sent away, even just to another room turned a temper snit into a full on meltdown that could last for what felt like forever. So Carole ended up sitting with him until he settled down.

For the first two days after I testified, Finn had held himself together. The strain was there, in his constant pacing and restless movements, but he wouldn't talk about it, no matter how gently I probed or hard I pushed.

On day three, he imploded over the color of plate he was given for dinner. He liked the green plate, and had been handed the yellow one. That was it, and the massive upset that ruined dinner for everyone. The rage part only lasted 10 minutes or so, followed by another 45 of pitiful weeping. Dad and I sat at the table, pretending to eat, while Carole unsuccessfully tried to figure out what was wrong in the living room. Once he finally gave the crying up, he put himself to bed at 6:45 in the evening, moodily announcing that he had a headache. Whether that was true or not, he was dead asleep when I got brave enough to venture down there at 7:30, and didn't wake up before I went to school the next morning.

As mean as this sounds, I spent most of the school day hoping that he was coming down with something. I didn't want him to be ill, but at least it would give a reasonable explanation for why he had suddenly turned into Finn the Terrible.

Even then, though, I knew that illness was too easy of an answer. Finn was perfectly fine physically and falling apart emotionally. Having to testify at the trail loomed over him, a boogieman that he couldn't shake. Until he actually got on that stand, and saw for himself what it was like, his mind would keep inventing horrible possibilities. We still had two days to go, and he was so tightly wound that I couldn't understand how he hadn't snapped yet.

Things were both better and far worse then when he first came home. He was still talking, which was an improvement. Except 99% of what came out of his mouth lately was loud, rude, and mean. He hated our house. He hated going to the garage. He hated my music. He hated what Carole made for dinner, even though it had been his favorite last week.

He hated everyone and everything. Even though I knew that his aggression was coming from fear, it didn't make it much easier to deal with. The last time he had focused his hatred on Dad, but now we were all getting it. Even his beloved Mr. Shue had caught the ill side of his temper for picking the wrong songs during practice. Rachel had tried to intervene, only to receive a death glare so evil that it shut her up for what was probably the first time in her entire life.

_See, there are some advantages here._

The basement door opened, and I had to smother a groan. I loved him, I did, but I just couldn't deal with Finn's drama right now.

Luckily, I didn't have to. Finn wasn't down the first step before Carole was calling out to him. "Finn! I don't think so. Get back over here." 

"I want to go downstairs with Kurt. Please." The last word was tacked on, but not in a sarcastic way.

"No. Your behavior has been atrocious, and you're in trouble. Honestly Finn, if you're going to do something as foolish as climb onto the fireplace mantel, clearly you are not capable of making good choices. So you can come stand in my line of sight and I'll help you make better ones."

_The fireplace mantel? That's a new one._

It certainly was. I would have been afraid that it would break under my own weight, and Finn had to weigh a good 50 lbs more then I did. He had probably only been up there for 30 seconds or so, though. Just long enough for Carole to notice and flip out.

I had thought that we were beyond the control games, but apparently Finn was revving up for round two. As hard as he was making things on us, though, he wasn't having any fun either. So, yay, at least we were all suffering as a family.

If we could just get through the first day of Finn being on the stand (and I was sure that he would be up there more then one day. After all, this case hinged on him.), I think we'll be ok. Finn fears the unknown more then anything else, so once he was actually up there, and got into the rhythm of what was happening, the worst of this should go away.

At least that was what I kept telling myself. The truth was, I didn't know for sure. I knew Finn better then I ever had, and certainly better then anyone else with the possible exception of Carole, but that didn't mean I knew everything. Sometimes, it didn't seem to mean that I knew anything.

I pressed my face harder into the mattress. As much as I wanted to believe to the contrary, chances were just as good that Finn's behavior continued right through the trial. Seeing the Wrights put away might be a comfort, but if they were acquitted…I just wasn't going to think about it.

Finn hadn't closed the basement door, and I could still hear muted voices in the kitchen. I couldn't distinguish actual words, but no one sounded angry. They were probably making dinner together. Usually that was my job with Carole, but I was more then happy to give it up if it meant keeping the peace.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but I was dozy and half asleep by the time the door creaked open again. Footsteps padded down, but no one spoke. It was too heavy for Dad or Carole, so Finn must have been released from his punishment. No stomping or other drama, though, so keeping him close for a while had done the trick.

The blanket lifted and he crawled into bed with me. He dropped it back down and mimicked my pose so that we were staring at each other, heads in our arms. After a few seconds of staring, his lips quirked up into a smile that I couldn't help but return. Moody, mad, and messed-up, he was still my Finn. I scooted forward so I could give him a quick kiss. "Hello, Finn Hudson."

"Hey." This close, I could see the dark circles under his eyes and the worried lines on his forehead. No one should look this exhausted at 17 years old. "What are you doing under here?"

Hiding from him, though I wasn't about to say that. Luckily, he's pretty easy to fool if I say it lightly enough. "Looking for tiny little lint monsters in the back of the blanket."

"Oh. Can I help you?" He rolled onto his back, already scanning for the offending lint. He was still smiling, so I knew that he wasn't taking this any more seriously then I was.

"Of course. I can always use a good lint monster catcher." The mood in the room had lightened considerably, and I wanted it to stay that way.

I held up the blanket with one hand, and he traced random patterns on it, looking for the elusive lint. After a few minutes, his free hand slipped into mine. "I know that I've been acting like an asshole the past few days and I'm sorry."

Finn likes honesty, so I didn't even try to deny it. "You've certainly had better weeks."

"I don't mean to be. Like really, I'm not just saying that to get myself out of trouble. When I wake up in the morning, I tell myself 'Finn, don't be an asshole today. Quit making everyone freaked out, because this isn't their fault and it doesn't make you feel any better anyway.' But I still do it."

Did I go there or should I just keep quiet? I did my best to stay away from his mental health issues, since he had a therapist for that, and I didn't want to make things worse. But he had just provided me with the perfect opening, so I went for it. "Why do you think you do that?"

"I have to." He turned on his side so he could look me in the eyes. "Even when I don't want to, my body just does it, like my brain doesn't even get a say. It's kind of scary."

"I can see where it would be." Scary, but not that surprising. In many ways, Finn was mentally ill right now. He had no official diagnosis, but more then a few things had been tossed around. Anxiety disorder. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Acute Stress Response. So many different things, and I had no idea which, if any, he might actually have. Samantha wasn't willing to diagnose him with anything until after the stress of the trial was over, and she had a period of calm in which to evaluate him.

There had to be more, but those were just the ones that I had heard mentioned by either Finn or Carole, so they were what I was focusing on. Finn knows that what he talks about with Samantha is private, and he doesn't have to share it with anyone, but he sometimes does choose to tell me things. Together we had looked up some of the disorders, and put together a list of questions for him to ask Samantha about each. It was a win-win situation for both of us: I learned what was happening in his head, and Finn got some control of things in a healthy and productive way. We were both happy, and it kept him off of the fireplace mantel.

The downside was that I now knew more then I had ever wanted about trauma and its effect on a child. Finn was no longer a baby, but his brain was still developing. In fact, since he was in the middle of puberty, his brain was doing the most developing it had done since his infancy and toddlerhood.

Trauma disrupts normal brain function. The brain goes haywire as adrenaline and other hormones are pumped into it. The heartbeat increases, the person become alert and tense, and the fight or flight reflex engages. Under most circumstances, the traumatic event passes, and the body relaxes back to normal. In some cases, even one extreme event could trigger life long problems, but most of the time it was business as usual.

But chronic stress and trauma, like what Finn had suffered, caused permanent brain damage. Gradually, the normal circuits of the brain rewired. They didn't die, but the old pathways were lost, as were the old ways of responding to and recovering from trauma. Finn's fight or flight reflex was constantly engaged and, unfortunately for us, constantly stuck in the 'fight' position.

Even without a diagnosis, other then whatever vague thing she put on his paperwork so he could stay on his Xanax; it was obvious that Finn had more going on then what could resolve itself. Love was healing, and it had helped already, but it wasn't going to be enough.

Honestly, it terrified me. Anxiety Disorder was frightening enough, but when I heard PTSD…that never goes away. Finn could get make improvements, and there was no reason to think that he wouldn't live a reasonably normal life, but it would always be there, waiting for something to trigger it off and send him spiraling back into trouble.

The rate of PTSD in abused children and teenagers was five times that of US veterans. Shocking, but true. And Finn had all the symptoms. Nightmares and trouble sleeping. Hypervigilance. Inappropriate emotional responses. Avoiding certain situations. Clinginess. Being easily startled. The only one I hadn't seen so far was flashbacks.

_Wrong. You've seen the flashback; you just didn't recognize it for what it was. Remember what happened the first time Finn wanted to fool around? _

Yes. But that hadn't been a flashback, had it? I had thought that it would look like it did in the movies with the hysteria, and the screaming, and Finn needing days to recover.

But I guess that real life isn't anything like the movies. Whatever diagnosis he ended up with, Finn would be living with this for the rest of his life.

Sometimes, like now, he could be so sweet and normal, just like his old self. But just as quickly, we were back to him acting like he was demon possessed. It was enough to give you mental whiplash.

"I don't think that there's any lint monsters on the blanket. Can we get out from under it now? It's hot under here."

It wasn't until we were both on top of the comforter, snuggling and working on our respective homework, that I returned to my train of thought. All things considered, Finn was doing very well. Yes, his behavior was taking a bit of a downward dip at the moment, but we were talking about someone who was too afraid to use the bathroom with the door closed when we got him back, and now was fine with huddling underneath a heavy comforter, so we were still coming out way ahead.

Finn was taking a highlighter to his workbook, doing every other line with excessive care. He always does that, though I have yet to figure out why, and asking him resulted in a shrug and a blank look. "Hey, Kurt?"

Trying to engage me in conversation is one of his patented tricks to get out of doing his homework, so I didn't even bother looking over. "Hmm?"

"You know that you're really…you know…..important to me, right?" He stammered a little, his voice small.

This seemed like it was something important, so I put my book down and gave him my full attention. "Of course I know that. I've never doubted that you and I are something special."

He wasn't looking back at me. Instead he was staring rather pointedly down at his work. "Good."

That wasn't what he had wanted to say to me, that much was obvious. Part of me was dancing at the thought that he might have wanted to tell me that he loved me, but I was trying to be realistic here. 

Without looking at me, he reached over and laid his arm across my back. It was a possessive gesture, an unmistakable claiming of me as belonging to him. So what if he hadn't told me he loved me? Rome wasn't built in a day, and the words would come when it was the right time. I snuggled closer, glad to feel his body against mine.

Two days later, on the day Finn needed to testify, I would have accepted any words, loving or not. Finn hadn't gone totally mute on us again, but he was barely speaking. A direct question would be answered in as few words as possible, and as softly as he could manage. If he could whisper it in your ear, he liked that even more.

But only if he was asked directly. If we were sitting down to a family dinner, he let the conversation flow over and around him, but contributed nothing. He listened, and he was attentive to our words and facial expressions, but you had to directly draw him into what was being discussed.

He was currently in the bathroom, taking a shower. Oddly, he had slept deeply last night, with no signs of distress. I, on the other hand, had been a nervous wreck. I must have woken 15 times last night, and there no hope of hiding the circles under my eyes, even with concealor. I finally gave up and sleep around three, and just laid there stewing. When it got to 5:44, one minute before the alarm was due to go off, I shut it off and woke him with a kiss instead. "Morning, Cowboy."

My words got me a strained smile, but he didn't say good morning back. He just got up and padded to bathroom, where he had remained. I listened as I got his suit out, but he wasn't singing in there like he usually did. My stomach clenched and rolled as I worried about what was going to happen today.

Actually, I was far more nervous now about Finn testifying then I had ever been about doing it myself. When I was on the stand, at least I knew that I was as prepared as possible, and that I had committed myself to telling the truth, no matter how painful it was to say out loud.

Finn was a wild card. He knew that he should tell the truth. He knew that it was a crime not to, and he knew that if he was caught in a lie, it was likely that it would blow the entire trial. He also knew that all of this came down to him. Dad, the gas station attendant, the owner of the bowling alley, even me, we were all window dressing. Finn was the main attraction, and he understood that he would make or break the case. I just don't know if it was going to be enough.

The shower shut off, and I heard his electric razor start. When he and Carole first moved in, he had only needed to shave once a week or so. I hadn't needed to shave at all. Now he had to do it daily. Time marched on, no matter how hard we tried to stop it.

I tapped tentatively on the door. "Finn?"

"Huh?" His voice was thick sounding, so he must be brushing his teeth at the same time.

"What do you want for breakfast? I could make some chocolate chip pancakes?"

"No, thank you. I'm kind of scared that if I eat anything, I'll puke in front of everyone." He opened the door and came out, traces of toothpaste still on his mouth.

Not that I was really looking at his mouth. I was too busy staring at the rest of his body. He had put his pajama pants back on, but not the top. His skin was still flushed and damp from the shower and my train of thought not only derailed, but ended up in a flaming heap of metal in a field somewhere.

More and more, he was showing himself off for me. At first I had thought that it was nothing but him becoming more comfortable in my presence, but now I was convinced that it was deliberate. At least that was what Mercedes claimed. Finn wanted to make himself sexy for me. The ego boost was amazing.

He was pretending that he didn't notice my staring, but I knew that he did. "Is my suit ready?"

"It certainly is. You really need to have something in your stomach, though, so you don't pass out. How about some oatmeal? It'll be easy on your stomach." Not to mention fairly inoffensive if it came back up. Finn's not given to a nervous stomach, but is he was already threatening to throw up…maybe just some crackers and Sprite instead?

"Oatmeal's ok, I guess." He dressed slowly, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt as his hands shook. I stepped forward and fixed his shirt, smoothing the fabric over his chest and shoulders. I started to loop the tie around his neck, but he pulled back. "Can it wait? I feel kind of like I'm choking."

"Of course." I pressed a hand to his forehead. Cool, not clammy, which was a good sign. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, not right now. Just…you're still going to be in the courtroom, right? Where you showed me?"

One day last week we had both been allowed to go to the courtroom and check things out, so testifying would be a little less nerve wracking. There was a row in the front reserved for the close family of those testifying, which was another help. Finn not only knew that we would be there, but exactly where we would be seated. "I will absolutely be there. You don't need to be nervous, because all three of us are going to be there, supporting you."

He ran a hand over Wolf's tawny body. "I'm already nervous. But Samantha says that's good. If I'm nervous, I'll be focused, and I'll be sharp. They won't be able to trick me as easy. I just have to not get too nervous."

"You can do it." I hugged him as tightly as I could, trying to transfer some of my meager strength to him. "I'm going to make your cereal, so don't be too much longer."

As much as it hurt, I had to give him a little space right now. Finn's usually pretty social, but he liked to have a few minute in the beginning of the day to center himself. Today, more then most, he was going to need to be as calm as possible.

Usually I make Finn double portions of everything, but today I barely made a half one. I didn't make anything for myself, even though I would have never let Finn get away with not eating. If he was afraid he would throw up if he ate something, I was positive that I would.

He appeared just s I was setting his breakfast on the table. "Do you want some coffee?"

"N-no." He stuttered a little bit, revealing how nervous he was. "I'm jumpy already so it would probably make me even worse and then things would be really, really, bad. Just milk or water, please."

I could hear Dad and Carole moving around upstairs. Whatever was happening up there, no matter what they were actually feeling, they wouldn't come downstairs until they were both calm and in total control of their emotions. Finn would take his cues off of them, and off of me. So all three of us had to hold it together.

Finn ate his breakfast in tiny bites. "No one else is coming, right? Not Rachel or Mr. Shue or the rest of the club?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full. And no, it's just going to be the family." The rest of the club had been willing, but Finn had made it very clear that he wanted them to stay away. I knew that he didn't want everyone to know what had been done to him. I also knew that he was fully aware of the fact that all of the details would come out in the press whether he like it or not. But even having those few extra hours or days of everyone not knowing was a comfort to him, and he had so few of those these days.

"I had a dream about Puck last night." He finished his breakfast and took a final gulp of milk.

"Really? What did he say?" Finn hadn't seemed restless at all last night, so I could only assume that it hadn't been a bad dream.

Dark eyes met mine. "He said he missed me, and that he didn't blame me for him getting killed. He also said that Drizzle is doing really good. I'm glad, because I really wanted her to be my baby. Even though she's not, it's good that she's safe and happy."

I nodded, though it was more as an encouragement to keep going then anything else. None of us really knew how Baby Beth was doing. I think that Quinn had some contact with the adoptive mother, but none of it was face to face. To the best of my knowledge, Quinn hadn't laid eyes on her daughter since the day she was born. "I think that it's very nice that you're worried about Drizzle. Did Puck say anything about the trial?"

He actually laughed, a sweet sound that was nearly a giggle. "Yeah. He said to not be such a fucking worrywart, just like I always am. Oh, and not to cry like a pussy on the stand. He said he'd make sure they revoked my man card if I did."

That sounded like the Puck I had known. "If you cry, you cry. I did."

"Oh, yeah, he said to tell you hi and thank you for taking such good care of me because I'm too fucking stupid to take care of myself." Finn grinned to himself, totally caught up in what he was telling me.

"You aren't stupid, Finn. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that." His lack of self-esteem worried me.

The look I got suggested that I might be the one who was stupid. "I _know_ that. I'm just telling you what Puck said. He also said good luck to both of us. For being together, not about the trial. I don't think he's very worried about the trial."

Even though I (and presumably Finn, though you could never be sure with him) knew that this was nothing more then a dream creature, a figment of Finn's imagination, I didn't want Finn to stop talking. 'Puck' was a product of Finn's own subconscious, and was thus an intriguing look into his mind. "He always did possess an overabundance of confidence."

"Is overabundance having too much, or just enough?" The more he talked, the more color returned to his face.

"In most cases, it's having too much. This time, though, we need all the confidence we can get." I pressed my lips to his, unsurprised when he licked at my lips to try and deepen the kiss. "You're naughty."

He grinned against my mouth, but didn't say anything. Finn loves to kiss and be kissed. I don't know if it's because he that's the only thing that his previous girlfriends would let him do, or what it was, but I couldn't complain. I had never thought of myself as a particularly sexual creature, but when Finn kissed me…..wow. It was like there was a direct line to my groin. Sometimes he didn't even have to get tongue involved before I was rock hard and panting desperately.

Ok, maybe I could complain a little. I had always suspected that blue balls was something that the sports teams made up to get girls to put out for them. So you got an erection and didn't do anything about it. All you had to do was wait until it went away on its own. How badly could it possibly hurt?

As it turned out, it was like having them shoved into one of Dad's steel vises. I wanted Finn to touch me again, but I didn't know how to ask. Usually I resorted to touching myself, but sometimes I couldn't get away and somewhere private to take care of things and doing it in front of Finn just felt wrong.

Suddenly he pulled back and sat back down. At the same time, I heard our parents on the stairs and sat myself, yanking my shirt down to cover an unfortunate problem that had developed.

Carole was at Finn's side instantly, her arms wrapped around him. "How are you feeling this morning, Sweetheart? Are you doing alright?"

He nestled against her, hiding his face. "M'ok."

"Did you eat? Let me make you some breakfast." She tried to pull back, but Finn refused to let her go. His head shook frantically and he mumbled against her. "No, I already ate. I want you." 

This was something I had been noticing more and more. Finn had always been sensitive to other people's emotions, and tended to base his own off of what he was picking up. Carole babied and coddled him, so he acted small and pathetic with her. I expected him to be tough, and he did his best. He wasn't always successful, but he did try. Dad mostly stayed hands-off, and Finn ignored him in return.

But what were his real feelings? If I had to guess, I would say he was somewhere in between what he was showing the two of us. He was far from helpless, but maybe he wasn't as tough as he pretended to be with me either.

"If the boys have eaten, we should probably get going." Dad wrung his hands nervously.

Carole rested her chin on top of Finn's head. "Are you ready, Finn?"

He nodded. "I'm good. I'm going to get up there, and I'm going to tell the truth and it's going to be alright. Puck told me so."

Our parents exchanged worried looks, so I jumped to Finn's defense. "Finn had a dream about Puck last night."

They relaxed, which irritated me. We never talk about it, but we still have lingering fears for Finn and his mental health. He had been though so much, and already had one small nervous breakdown. What if it happened again, but worse? What if Finn couldn't recover this time? Even more irritating, I worried just as much.

"What happened in your dream, Buddy?" Dad spoke for the first time.

"He said that the trial would be ok and that he missed me and some other stuff that I'm not telling you because it's private." As he spoke to Dad, Finn uncurled from Carole and sat up straight in his chair. Whether he and his mother believed it or not, he was getting stronger by the day.

"Did you tell him that you missed him back?" He poured some coffee into a travel mug. "And do either one of you boys want a cup?"

We both shook our heads. Finn slid out of Carole's grip and stood up. "I'm ready, and I'm going to do it good. I've got this."

"Good, good. Do you want to try driving?" He held the keys out to Finn, shaking them a bit in temptation.

My boyfriend grinned, and relaxed further. "Uh-uh. It would look really bad if I hit someone on the way to court. Maybe later."

The air was oppressively heavy as we piled into the car. The day itself was beautiful. Sunny with fluffy white clouds, and unseasonably warm for Ohio this time of year. It seemed almost obscene that it should be so pretty outside when such ugly things were about to be brought up.

Finn held an open book for school in his lap, though he clearly wasn't reading it. It was just there for show, so we would leave him alone. No one believed that he was doing anything with it, but we all respected his wish for a bit of privacy.

Word had gotten out that Finn would be testifying today, and the place was an absolute madhouse. Finn saw all of the reporters and flinched his body against mine. I reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly. "It's alright, we're all here. Don't say anything to them. Ok? No matter what they say or ask, just don't say anything." I was afraid that anything he said could be misinterpreted or twisted around.

"Ok." The book slid off of his lap, totally unnoticed. "Don't say anything. Got it."

As soon as the four of us left the car, we were swarmed. Voices called out in a confusing jumble, so quickly that I couldn't match the voices to the people. "Finn? Finn? Finn, can you tell us what you'll be saying today? Finn, is it true that there will be sexual assault charges brought up? Did you actually witness the murder? Finn, is it true that you've refused a plea bargain for Mrs. Wright?"

He jolted at that last one, as if such a thing had never been discussed. It might not have, especially in front of him. But before he could do anything, or even determine which person had spoken, Dad stepped in between him and the line of people. "Finn won't be answering any questions, period. Back off."

Dad's not a very big guy, but he can be intimidating when he puts his mind to it. He was already steering Finn towards the front door. "Go away. Everything he has to say will be said in the courtroom."

Finn was tense when I gave him a final shove through the door, his eyes darting nervously. "I forgot where to go."

My ass he had forgotten where to go. We had gone over this part a million times, complete with diagrams. I tugged his shoulder so that he would lean down and I could whisper in his ear. "Do you not know where to go or do you just want an extra minute with us?"

"Extra minute." He shook his hands out nervously, the same way I had seen him do on the football field before a major play. God, that seemed like a million years ago.

By now, I knew Finn well enough to know that just because he wanted us around, didn't mean he wanted us to fuss and stress him further before the trial. He just wanted a minute to gather his thoughts.

Abruptly he straightened. "I'm ready. You and you and you all sit where you're supposed to, and I'm going to do this."

With those words, he turned down the hallway where the witnesses would stay until it was their turn. My chest ached as I watched him walk away. This wouldn't be like last time, when he left us and didn't come back for months.

"Well, that's that. Let's go find our seats." Dad's voice was falsely pert.

Sitting there, I realized that this was going to be a different sort of torture. Yes, I already knew everything Finn was going to say, but to hear him have to repeat it and not be able to comfort him was gong to be hard. And that was only the prosecution, who was on our side. Watching the defense try and pick him apart was going to be devastating.

I picked my nails down, then dug at my cuticles until they bled. I had destroyed all of them on my left and hand and was starting at my right when I heard them call for us to rise for the judge. Numbly, I stood, then sat back down for the review of the previous days testimony, and a brief interlude while the two lawyers argued. I was so focused on my self-mutilation that I almost missed the most important words of all. "The prosecution calls Finnegan Hudson to the stand."

It wouldn't have seemed possible, but Finn looked incredibly small and fragile when he walked to the stand. Each step was slow and measured, and his eyes darted back and forth as he looked for us. When he saw us, I mouthed 'go Finn' at him and hoped that he understood.

A quick smile quirked at his lips, and I knew that he had. Then he made the mistake of looking over to his right, and saw Joseph. The smile fell of his face and his eyes went wide. For a second, I thought that he was about to bolt, but he managed to pull himself together.

As much as I hated to see him suffer, this could end up working to our advantage. There was no faking Finn's immediate reaction upon seeing Joseph and the jury was sure to have seen it.

He took his seat and rested a hand on the bible, solemnly swearing to tell the truth. Even when it had the book to brace it, his hand visibly trembled.

"Hey, there, Finnegan. Is it ok if I call you Finnegan?" Mr. Robison started him out the same way as he had me.

"Finn." His head had dropped, and he mumbled his answer into the shiny wood of the witness stand. "You can call me Finn."

"Finn then." He paused until Finn looked up and made eye contact. "Do you understand why we're here today?"

"Yeah. I'm here so I can tell the jury what happened, and so they can decide whether or not someone needs to go to jail." Finn's voice was still small, but very clear.

"That's right. I'm just going to ask a few quick questions to set the stage. Can you give me your age, please?"

"I'm 17. But when it happened, I was only 16, because my birthdays in May. But I'm 17 now." Two questions in and he was already nervous and confused.

"Since we're going to be talking about March, we'll go with 16 years old. Now I want you to describe the members of your family."

"Me and Mom. We're the blood family. My Dad died in Iraq when I was just a baby. Now we have Burt and Kurt, because they're the family we picked out. Well, mostly Mom did the picking, but she did a good job. Burt's pretty much my stepdad, except him and Mom aren't married yet. Kurt is Burt's son, so that kind of makes him my brother, but we're the same age and we know each other from school. That's the whole family."

"A small family, then. Where do the four of you live?"

Finn was smart enough not to give the address. "Mom and I moved in with Burt and Kurt, but I think we might be looking for a new house soon. Or maybe putting an addition on to the one we have so there's more room."

The panicked look drained slowly out of his facial expression. He had made it to the courtroom, and he was doing just fine. Mr. Robison saw it, too, and he moved forward. "I'm going to ask you to go back to the date of March 19, 2011. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes." Before my eyes, something amazing happened. Finn stiffened up and straightened his shoulders. His eyes hardened and sharpened to a laser focus. Whatever happened from here on out, he had decided that he wouldn't be pushed around, and he wouldn't do anything to disappoint Puck's memory.

The courtroom wasn't going to know what hit it.


	48. Chapter 48

_**Angel: No weapons, no friends, no hope. Take all that away, and what's left?**_

_**Buffy: Me.**_

_**Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Becoming**_

I can do this. I can be tough, and strong, and tell the truth even when I would rather curl up and die somewhere. "Yes. I can tell you about that day."

"Good. Start wherever you feel comfortable."

I could start on our way to White Castle, when we first saw Lily, but I knew that he didn't really want me to start there. He wanted me to start back in the basement, when Kurt and I talked. It makes me look a little bad, like maybe I had wanted to run away from home, but the truth is going to come out anyway, and it's better for him to ask the questions instead of the defense. That way he can kind of control things and make a good impression on the jury. Kurt always says that you only get one chance to make a good impression, so I better make a good one.

"It was a Friday, so I had school first thing, which was kind of school. You know, not that great. So after school Kurt took me to his house, and we split up. He went downstairs and I stayed in the kitchen."

"Finn, I'm going to stop you there and get a little clarification. When you say Kurt took you to his house, do you mean the place where you all lived?"

My face felt hot, and I knew that I was blushing. "Yeah, I meant our house. Mom and I had just moved in with them on that Sunday, so it was still kind of hard to think of it as belonging to all of us."

I was messing up already and we hadn't even gotten to the hard stuff yet. Think, Finn, and quit being so stupid. "Mom wanted to go out on a date with Burt, which usually meant that Kurt and I had to stay home. She didn't like us going places when she was out, because she thought we might get in trouble and not be able to get an adult to help. I thought she was being mean, but I guess she was right."

He nodded, which I'm pretty sure means that I should keep going. "But I talked her into letting me go out with Puck for the night. We were just going to go bowling and get a hamburger. That was it." No matter how many times I say those words, they're still really hard to believe. With all the dumb stuff that I've done, you would think that it should have been a pretty tame night. "She made me promise to be back by 1."

"Where was Kurt during all this?"

"In the basement, which was our bedroom, too. We had to share. I asked him to go with us, but he didn't want to." It had been a really not sincere offer, but at least I had done it. "So I guess he was just going to stay home alone and do whatever."

"Can you back up and tell me a little about how things were going with Kurt?"

My face felt hot again, but this time I was because I was ashamed of myself rather then just being embarrassed. I acted like a rampaging douche to Kurt. I mean, yeah, he acted like one, too, but that w as no excuse. "Not very good." Then I thought of something. "I mean, not very well. I shouldn't say good."

Someone snickered, which was kind of mean of them. I was trying to be smarter here. "I didn't want to live there, period. I liked it when it was just Mom and me, and I didn't know Burt hardly at all. Definitely not enough to want to live with him. I knew Kurt better, but I didn't want to share a room with him. But nobody asked me. They didn't even tell me before it happened. They just made it a big surprise and all of my stuff was packed." Even now, it still hurt that they had done that.

"Anyway, it wasn't really Kurt at all. Well, it kind of was, but not mostly. Mostly it was just that I was mad at everyone and I hated them all. Puck was always mad at his Mom, too, so we were just going to get away from it all for a little bit." I took another deep breath, because I did want them to know what I had wanted things to be better. "We were going to watch a movie when I came home, though, even if he didn't want to go with us to bowl."

"Did the two of you ever talk about what was going on between you?"

"Yeah, we did that night. I told him that I wanted some space. Not just space in our room, even though I needed that, too, but him just backing the hell off and letting me get settled in instead of being up my ass all the time. He said that he would." Thinking about what I had wanted then and what I wanted now was what Kurt likes to call ironic. "He said he would. He wanted us to be a good family, just like I did. I just wanted us to be normal. That's pretty much all about Kurt." It was nowhere near all about Kurt, not even a tiny little bit, but it was all that I wanted to say about him.

"All right. Go ahead and tell us about where you and Mr. Puckerman went that night."

I didn't tell him that Puck would have hated being called 'Mr. Puckerman', even though I wanted to. "We were going to go bowling. We didn't really have enough money for it, but Mr. Flannery will let us bowl free if we stay after closing. Closing was at midnight, so I would still get back in time. Only there weren't any open lanes, so we were going to get a burger and then come back."

"I, um…can I have drink of water, please?" I wasn't really thirsty, but Samantha told me that I could ask for one if I needed to stall them.

It wasn't that I didn't know what to say, because I did. Everything that happened that night is really, really clear in my brain. I just wanted a chance to remember Puck the way he had been that last night, because it was a good memory. We weren't fighting, and he wasn't acting like an asshole. It was just him and me, the way it had been when we were kids. We had been bros for forever, and I still can't believe sometimes that he's never coming back.

I took a few sips and tried to calm myself down. This was the worst part, even worse then what Joseph did to me in the bedroom. "Puck wanted White Castle, so we were going there. It was dark out, and we almost didn't see the lady on the road. Puck probably would have gone right by her, but I made him stop. She was holding a little baby, and I thought maybe her car had broken down or something."

Every time I start to think that maybe Lily wasn't as bad as Joseph, I remind myself about that moment. She didn't have to get us to stop. She knew full well that Joseph wouldn't take both of us, and that the one that he didn't pick would have to die. Maybe she even knew which one of us it would be as soon as we stopped. But she let us pull over anyway. That's how I knew she's as evil as he is.

"She was so nice when we stopped, and kept thanking us and telling us that she had a flat tire and couldn't get it fixed herself. I've changed lots of tires, and I thought it would only take a few minutes. Then we could get burgers. Then we saw the guy in the drivers seat."

"Is he in the courtroom today, Finn? Can you point to him?"

I pulled my shoulders back and pointed at Joseph. "Him." He shook his head a little, but didn't say anything. It scared me. "He's the man I saw."

"Let the records state the witness pointed to the defendant. What happened when you saw him?"

"I started getting freaked out, because why wasn't he changing the tire? At least he could have stayed with the baby. I looked over at Puck, and his eyes were telling me to get back in the truck and we would run like hell. I was backing up, but I was still looking at the guy so I saw him point at me instead of Puck. I saw that he had something in his other hand, but I didn't know that it was a gun until he shot Puck in the head with it."

For a second, my vision got funny, and I all I could see was the way Puck had looked without most of the top of his head. You know in the movies when someone gets shot, they always manage to live long enough to gasp out that they love you, and ask forgiveness for the things they did wrong? Even when someone gets shot in the head, there's this perfectly round hole, but everything else looks fine. Let me tell you something: that's not what it looks like in real life. In real life there are brains everywhere, and blood is all over the car and bones and teeth are in places they shouldn't be.

I looked at a corner one of the desks until I could get a mental image of Puck looking ok again. He even did that head jerk thing that he always did because he thought he was too cool to just nod like the rest of us did. I always thought it looked stupid, but Puck never really cared what anyone else thought.

I drank some more water and dug my fingernails into my leg until I could feel bruises forming. "I just froze, because I couldn't believe what had happened. I mean, shit like that doesn't happen to real people. By the time I thought I should run, Lily had already put one of those shock guns to my neck and zapped me with it really hard. I would have fallen down, but she grabbed me and pushed me into the car."

"Finn, I want you to pause there, ok? I'm going to put up a picture of the scars that were left on your neck. They perfectly match a Stun Master Multi-Function Stun Gun found in the house. That stun gun is exhibit 7a." He held it up in a Ziploc baggie, and I couldn't help but flinch. Being shocked with that thing was like having the worse muscle cramp ever, only it was all over my body. I actually thought I was going to die. Then I realized that I wasn't, because they just would have shot me like they did to Puck. They wanted me for something worse. Once I figured that out, I started hoping I would die, because it would be easier for me.

I wasn't sure if I was supposed to keep going or wait for him to ask another question, so, for once, I kept my mouth shut. "What happened once you were in the car."

"I don't know. The stun gun didn't knock me out, right away, so I remember the car starting and them arguing a little, but I finally either passed out or fell asleep. When I woke up again it was light out, but I didn't know if it was Saturday morning or Sunday morning or what. I was laying down in the backseat of the car, and the first thing I saw was the baby on the floorboard. It was a baby doll instead of a real baby. I was trying to sit up, but my muscles were stiff and my one arm was asleep, so I couldn't. Lily saw me trying and made Joseph pull over on the side of the road. When we stopped, she pulled me up and gave me some water. I was shaking really hard, and I couldn't really hold it, so she had to help me. She kept asking if I was hungry or needed the bathroom, like she was my friend or my Mom or something. I asked her to bring me home, and she told me that we were going home. But I knew that she didn't mean back to my real house. As soon as I could hold the water bottle by myself, we got back on the highway."

"Did you make more stops?" Mr. Robison was trying to keep me on track.

"Yeah, we had to stop for gas and food and stuff. But they didn't let me get out of the car. When I had to pee, they made me do it in a milk jug. Joseph did make Lily get out of the car and go inside when I did it, so she wouldn't see my private parts, but it was still humiliating. Food was from the drive thru, but when we got up close, Lily would pull out the stun gun again and put it against my neck. She told me that I could still try, but that even if I got someone's attention, they would kill me before help could get there. So I didn't do anything."

He nodded at me, and I tried to keep going. "Mostly, they sat in the front seat and I sat in the back. So I thought that maybe I could open the door on the highway and jump out. Yeah, I might get splattered on the road, but it would still be better then whatever they were planning on doing to me. I kept hoping that there would be a big traffic jam, so someone would see me trying to get attention and help, but there wasn't."

"Do you know how long you were in the car?"

"Two days. We drove all night, too. That was when they started fighting. Lily was mad and wanted to stop at a hotel, and Joseph said that they couldn't, because then what would they do with me? They thought I would start screaming if they brought me in the room with them, but they couldn't leave me in the car, either. They were right. I would have screamed in the room, and I would have kicked the windows out if they left me in the car. But I didn't get the chance. I did try to tell them that they could just leave me somewhere and I would find my own way home, but he gave me this really nasty look and I shut my mouth pretty quick."

They kept getting louder and louder, so I finally laid down in the seat again and just pretended I was somewhere else. They were still fighting when I fell asleep. I just kept waking up and falling asleep for that night and the next day. I watched the road signs, so I knew what state we were in and everything, but I couldn't keep track of all the highways we were on. I knew when we were close to their house, because they both started getting really worked up. I knew that he would have to let me out of the car at the house, and I would have a chance to run then."

"Is that how it worked out?" He was gentle, but I know that I still have to answer.

"No. The garage was attached to the house, and they shut the garage door before they let me out of the car. When Joseph finally opened the car door, I rushed him and knocked him down just like I would in football. Then I ran for the door. I was faster then he was, but when I got to the door, it was solid metal and had the sort of lock you need a key for. By the time I got turned around, both Joseph and Lily were in the house and they had that door locked, too. I was trapped. I thought that maybe there would be a push button to put the garage door up, like at home, but there wasn't. No windows, no anything. And it was hot in there. The worst part was, I could see them inside, laughing at me. I couldn't get out and I wasn't about to put on a show for them to watch any more, so I just sat down. I didn't cry, because I was too mad."

_Yeah, because that's the important part of this. Not the murder, not the kidnapping, not any of what followed, but the fact that you didn't cry. Good priorities, Finn._

Right this second, the fact that I hadn't cried like a little bitch right then was the only thing I had to hold on to. "They left me out there for a long time."

"Do you know how long?"

"Not exactly, but it was late in the morning when we got there, and it was dark when they finally let me come inside. It was really cold, and all I had on was a T-shirt. Lily came out and gave me a water bottle. She said that if I cooperated, it would be easier for me and that nobody wanted to hurt me. I took the water, but I went all the way to the other corner of the garage to get away from her. So she went back inside."

"I thought they would probably make me spend the night out there, but it wasn't very long before Joseph came out. He had the gun with him, and he pointed it at me so I wouldn't get any ideas about running. Then he let me come in the house. It looked like a normal house. Nicer then the one Mom and I lived in, anyway. But I didn't really get to see much, because he made me go over to this little room. I didn't want to go in, but he pushed the gun on my back, so I did it anyway. Then he closed the door and locked it behind him."

He held up his hand. "Finn, I'm going to stop you again to show the jury a picture. Is this the same room he put you in?"

I had to look for a minute, because I wasn't sure. It was the right shape and color, but it was very clean. But the radiator in the corner looked familiar. I looked more carefully, and nodded. "Yeah, that's it."

It felt strange to see it, and to know that other people saw it, too. Everything that had happened at their house was a secret, right down to me being there at all. Now anyone could look and see the private space where I had lived.

"Just to let the court know, the room in question is 6 feet long and 3 feet 10 inches wide. That's fewer square feet then the average bathroom. Finn, I want you to describe the room for us."

I had been about to do that before he interrupted me. "There was a mattress on the floor, but a small one. It didn't have a bottom sheet on it, or blankets or even a pillow. There was a five gallon bucket at the end. That was it."

"Were there any windows?"

"No."

"Was there a light?"

"Yeah, there was one up on the ceiling. But the switch for it was on the outside, and he turned it off. So I was stuck in the dark."

He nodded. "What did you do then?"

"I tried the doorknob, but I couldn't get it to unlock. So I finally just laid down and went to sleep. I couldn't see, even after I gave my eyes plenty of time to adjust."

There was more that I could have said, but I stopped there. If he wanted me to say them, he would have to ask directly.

Luckily, he didn't. "Tell me what happened the next morning."

"I woke up when he unlocked the door. I didn't know what time it was, but he came in and stood there in the doorway staring with me. I thought that anything I said would be wrong and make him mad at me, so I stared back and didn't say anything. He kept staring at me like a wolf stares at a steak. It scared me."

He nodded, which I'm pretty sure meant I was supposed to keep going. "He asked if he could come in, which was stupid, because it was his house. But I told him sure, he could some in. He looked at the mattress and he asked me what I had done with the sheets and pillow. He acted really surprised when I told him that there weren't any. So he told me that he would bring me some, and breakfast and something to drink, too. He was really nice to me, like I would forget what had happened the night before. He said that it was Lily's fault that I didn't have any sheets because she forgot to get new ones after the last person left."

"Objection!" Suddenly everyone was screaming, and I came really close to doing it too, because it scared me so badly. They warned me the defense attorney could object at any time, but I had gotten too caught up in the story and I forgot. Both lawyers were arguing with the judge, which meant that the rest of us had to wait until they were done fighting.

Since I didn't have anything else to do, I looked for my family. They were exactly where they said they would be. Mom looked like she wanted to cry, but she nodded at me. Burt gave me a thumbs-up, which made me feel like I was at least doing something right. Kurt mouthed 'I love you' at me. I smiled at him, but I couldn't do anything back.

I wanted to look at the jury, to see if they were believing me or not. I didn't, though, because if they looked like they didn't, I wouldn't be able to keep going. This wasn't as bad as I had thought it would be. I had been worried for no reason.

_You haven't been cross-examined yet. You haven't even had to talk about any of the hard stuff. Idiot._

I had already talked about Puck dying, and nothing that Joseph had done to me was as bad as that. While I was thinking about that, Mr. Robison came back. "Finn, you can only talk about things that pertain to your own case, not any previous cases that may or may not have happened. Do you understand?"

Um….no. I shook my head, so he tried again. "What I'm saying is that you can't talk about anyone but yourself. If you didn't actually see anyone else, you can't talk about them. Understood?"

This time I got it, so I nodded. "Understood."

"Ok, so what else did Joseph talk about?"

"Not much. He brought me breakfast and I ate in the room. Then he asked me if I needed anything else. I wanted him gone, so I told him no and he left. It was like that for the next few days. I didn't try to fight him, and he brought me a nightlight so I wouldn't be stuck in the dark all the time, but I could unplug it if I wanted some dark."

"Do you know how many days it was?"

"Nor right then. I was trying to keep track, but because there were no windows or clocks or anything, it was hard to be sure. Sometimes I would fall asleep, and only think I had been asleep for an hour or two, but he would bring me another breakfast and say it was a new day and I couldn't know for sure. Or he would bring me what he called lunch, but I would look past him in the hall and it would be dark out. So I knew he was lying about stuff, but not how much."

"Did he let you out eventually?"

"Yeah. He didn't have the gun that time, but he did have the Taser. He made me walk in front of him with it touching my back. First we went to the window, so he could show me that there weren't any houses close by. I couldn't even see any far away ones. Then he showed me the alarm system, and how it would go off if I opened any of the doors. He would catch me before I could get help. I was really, really, trapped and he wanted to make sure that I knew it. Once he was sure that I did, he put the Taser away and let me go pick out anything I wanted from the fridge. I got a Sprite. Then Lily came in and said 'Hi, Finn. Do you want to watch some TV'. I never told them my name, so that freaked me out."

"Where had Lily been since the three of you arrived at the house? Was this the first time you saw her?"

"Yeah. I don't know where she was before that." Lily was kind of hard to explain. When she was there, she was there, but most of the time she was just not around. It was…yeah, I don't know.

"Alright, sorry to interrupt you. Tell me what happened after that."

"Lily said they wanted to show me something, so I followed her into the living room. They had a really big TV, and they made me sit on the couch while they screwed around with the TiVo. Then it was my family on the screen, all wanting me to come home."

"How did that make you feel?"

For the first time, I felt tears starting. "Sad. I wanted to run up to the screen and touch it, just to be close to them. But I couldn't. Then I felt like a jerk because I hadn't been very nice about moving to Kurt' s house. I felt like no one loved me or was listening to me. But they did, and I could tell from the video."

"Joseph put his hand down on my shoulder and I almost screamed, because I didn't want him to go anywhere near me. He pointed at my brother Kurt and said some really, really nasty sex things about him. I don't think I should repeat them, because they were gross." If I couldn't get out of this with any dignity, at least Kurt could.

"I'm sorry, Finn, but it's important that you be clear about any threats that were made. We're trying to get the full picture of what happened, and what things were like for you."

Sorry, Kurt, I tried. "He said that if he had known the Kurt was in the house, he wouldn't have bothered with me and Puck. Um, then he said he would make me a deal. He would take me home, but only if I would agree to make a switch for Kurt. He had a total plan for it. He would take me to the school, and then I would use his cell phone to call Kurt, since mine was gone. He knew that Kurt would come running out to see me, and he could grab him from there. It probably would have worked."

I couldn't even look at Kurt. Yeah, I had told him that Joseph had talked about making the switch, but I hadn't told him that there was an actual plan made. I especially hadn't told him, and never would, that I had spent a few minutes considering it. But I couldn't do it. I might be selfish, and I might make stupid choices, but I would never, ever, put someone else through what I had gone through.

"I told him that I wouldn't help him, or let anything happen to Kurt. So he said that I had to pay a price to keep him safe. I agreed, so he sent me upstairs to take a shower. When I got out, he had taken all of my old clothes, and left me new ones. No shoes, though, so I think he was still worried that I would run. I still didn't exactly know what he wanted, but then he started asking me questions about sex. You know, if I knew about it, and if I had done it, and things like that. That was when I knew."

"Had you? Been sexually active, I mean."

"Yes. One time." One really confusing time that I still made me feel sick and confused when I thought about it. Sex should be cool between people, not to make a point to someone else. Which is another reason I'm not doing anything with Kurt yet. I want it to be because I 100% want to, not because I want to prove that I can do it without flipping out.

"He started asking if I knew how two men had sex, and I kind of did, even though I'd never actually seen it. It's not that hard to figure out." I took a deep breath, because it was hard to talk about. I know that what happened wasn't my fault, and that it happens to a lot of people, but that didn't mean I wanted to have to talk about it. "Then he asked about….um…." I wasn't sure what I was supposed to call it. I would rather die then use the term 'suck him off' in front of Mom, but I didn't know if the old lady in the jury would know what a blow job was. There's another word for it, one that starts with F, but I can't remember what it is. Screw it, someone would just have to clue her in. "He talked about blow jobs. I didn't know as much about that, but he said I could figure it out. He said to get down on my knees and do it."

"He forced you to give him oral sex?"

"Yes."

"Did you tell no?"

"Yeah. He was pushing on the back of my head, and I kept shaking my head and not opening my mouth. So he pulled my head back and smacked my mouth with the back of his hand. My lip started bleeding everywhere, but he still made me blow him. It was really bad."

Someone gasped out in the audience. I knew that it had to be someone from my family, because I kept promising them that he hadn't done anything to hurt me like that. Kurt knows that he choked me, but this was different. Not so much to me, but probably to other people.

"I don't know how long it took, but I know I could barely breathe and I ended up choking at the end. He looked at me and told me what a good job I had done, but he didn't say it in a nice way. He said it like you would tell a dog it was good. He even patted my head like a dogs." The word was degrading, which is another one that Kurt taught me. It means you not only treat someone like crap, but you make sure they know that you're looking down on them when you do it.

"That was bad enough, but then he sat down next to me, and said 'you know why we can't take you home, right?'. I didn't, and I still don't. I mean, I didn't know if it was because Mom and my family had put my picture everywhere, or because they had killed Puck, or I gave good blow jobs or even something else. But it wasn't like I was expecting him to let me go anyway, so I said that I understood. That made him really happy, and he said that since I was going to have a new life with him and Lily, I could have a new name. But I didn't want a new name, and I was scared that I might pick the wrong one so I told him that he could pick for me. He liked that even more, which was good. If he was happy, he was going to be nicer to me."

"What name did he pick?" He was trying to lead my and keep me on track.

"Jeremy." I always wondered who the original Jeremy had been. Was he their real son? Another victim? Someone else? "Jeremy Samuel Wright. That's what I was supposed to tell everyone my name was if anyone asked. After that he took me back downstairs and told Lily that I had decided to stay with them and we needed to have a celebratory dinner. She made steaks for all of us."

"Did you going along with things make it easier for you?"

"Definitely. They let me stay out and watch TV with them. When it was bedtime, Joseph said I had been such a good sport, that he was going to give me a treat. He would leave the door open if I wanted, which I really, really did. But he said that since we were still trying to get to know each other, he had to take some precautions to make sure that we all stayed safe. So he showed me a pair of handcuffs. They weren't normal handcuff, though. They were more like…." I looked over, and suddenly I couldn't help but start laughing. It probably wasn't as funny as I was making it sound, but I needed something to break the tension. "They're exactly like what he's wearing now. The chain was really long."

I wanted to ask him how it felt to be the one chained up like an animal, but I held back. Being on the stand is about more then telling the truth. If you tell the total truth, and still come across as a giant douchebag, they might still vote against you. Kurt was surprised to find out that its not about who's telling the truth at all, but I wasn't. That's why Puck got the girls and I didn't. I was honest, and I was the better choice, but he knew how to tell the better story.

"Can I have another glass of water, please?" I wasn't thirsty, but my thoughts had gotten all scattered when I started laughing and I had to get them organized again. I only took a few sips, because I don't know if I'm allowed to get down and pee, or if I just have to hold it until I'm done.

"Anyway, he pushed one side of the cuff through the radiator, so I was chained to it. But he did leave the door open, and I could see out into the hallway and part of the living room, so it was pretty cool."

"Did it hurt you?"

"Uh-huh. The handcuffs didn't really, because they weren't on too tight or anything, but my one arm got pulled up when I laid down, because the chain wasn't really long enough. The next morning I had a bruise there."

"At this point were you still asking to go home?"

"Yes. But after that day, he would look at me like he was all confused, and he would say 'but Jeremy, you _are_ home. Remember? This is where you live.' Then he got really mad about it one time and put his fist up like he was going to hit me. After that I didn't ask any more. Once I quit asking, everything just settled down and turned into a normal day, even though it wasn't really normal." Wow, that had made me sound really stupid.

"Can you describe one of those normal days for me?"

"Sure. During the week, Joseph worked, but I don't know where. He never talked about that. He would get me up at 5:30. I hate getting up early, but I wasn't about to talk back to him. He would unlock me, and let me go use the bathroom. Lily made breakfast. She was a good cook. It was always pancakes, or waffles, or omelets. She never made us eat cold cereal or granola bars. At first, he would chain me back up when left, but he didn't always do it in my room. Sometimes he would double the chains and hook me up in the living room, so I could watch TV. Lily would bring me lunch. Her lunches were good, too. If I asked for something and she didn't have the stuff for it, she would ask Joseph to get it for me, and he usually did. If she had free time, she would come and sit with me and keep me company. There was a chair that was way out of my reach, and she would always sit there."

"Actually, Finn, I want to pause you right there and talk about Lily for a minute. Is that alright with you?"

No. I still couldn't quite figure out how I felt about Lily, and I sure as fuck didn't want to talk about her. But this wasn't really about me, so I nodded. "Ok."

"Did Lily know that Joseph had sexually assaulted you?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"How do you know?"

"He told her. After he was done the first time, and we were having dinner, he told her all about it. Like, not just that he had done it, but all the gross details. It was really embarrassing."

"What did she say about it?"

I couldn't look at him or anyone else. "She said that I sounded talented, and was he going to hog me all to himself, or was he going to share me? They talked about me like I wasn't even there."

"Did she ask you to do something sexual with her?"

"Not then. That came later. She never got close to me, then, because I think she was afraid of me. Later on, she wasn't, but then she was."

"So what other sorts of things would you do?"

"Not very much. My legs started hurting a lot after a few days. I already have growing pains, and I wasn't able to get up and walk around like I should, so I was pretty miserable. I told Joseph, and he said he was sorry, but I had to stay like that until we knew each other better."

"Did he let you loose when he came home, or did he keep you tied up then, too?"

"The first week or so he kept me tied up, but he would undo me for meals or to go to the bathroom. When it was just Lily, I had the bucket. She didn't have a key to the handcuffs."

"After dinner, I would help clear the table or wash the dishes, just like at home. Then we would watch some more TV and go to bed. I never thought I would get bored with TV, but I totally did. Did you know that you can watch Law and Order all day long, every single day? I don't even like Law and Order, but I would just go from one channel to the other, because it was that or Dora the Explorer. 11 was bedtime, and he would lock me back up in my room. All week long, that was how things worked."

"What about on the weekends?"

"Joseph was home on the weekends, so it was better and worse. Better because I wasn't chained up and I could walk around the house and explore a little bit, but worse because he was there watching me." It had been really creepy. The only place I could have any privacy at all was in the bathroom, and even that was kind of hit or miss. But I didn't want to talk about that.

"Did he make any attempt to sexually assault you again?"

Was he stupid? Of course Joseph had done it again. Why would anyone go through all the trouble of stealing another person and only make them suck him off once? "Yes. Unless he was running late, he made me to it in the mornings. He called it his wake-up call. Sometimes he would want it before bed, too, but not always."

"Did you ever ask him to stop, or tell him that you didn't want to?"

"I tried, but he didn't listen. He said that he was getting me ready for having a boyfriend someday, which was a lie. They weren't going to let me go to find a boyfriend, no matter what he made it sound like. I tried to tell him that I didn't really like boys like that, and he laughed at me again. He said that I would like boys a lot when he was done with me."

"So he was forcing you to have oral sex with him daily?" I nodded, and he looked at me. "Did he force you to have actual sexual intercourse with you?"

Honestly, I wish he had just said 'rape'. The way he said it made it sound…I don't know. It sounded like something you would read about it biology class. "Yes."

"Tell me how that happened."

"It was on a Sunday, but I'm not sure which one. I just know that he had been home the day before, and I was going to watch Family Guy that night. He was super nice to me all day. I mean, no handcuffs at all, ice cream for lunch, R rated movies. He even gave me a beer with lunch. He wanted to give me more then one, but I didn't drink the rest of them. I'm not stupid, and I knew he was trying to get me drunk. I knew why he was doing it, too."

"I just sat there getting more and more nervous, and feeling like I was going to puke at any second. By the time he actually told me to come on upstairs with him, I was actually relieved, because at least I could get it over with."

"Where was Lily when this happened? Was she in the room with you, or did she stay downstairs?"

"She stayed downstairs. She knew what he was going to do, though, because she couldn't look me in the eyes when walked by her. She didn't want me to ask he for help. I wouldn't have anyway, because I knew she wouldn't."

I tried to look as pathetic as possible when I looked up at him. "Do I really have to tell you all the details?"

"We don't have to talk about everything, but I need just a little bit more. What did he say to you after you got upstairs?"

Lots of things, all of them creepy and wrong. "He said that we had waited long enough, and that it was time for us to take the next step. I said that I wanted to wait a little longer because I didn't feel good, but he said I was just nervous."

"When we got upstairs, he sat down on the bed and told me that this could go either very good or very bad for me. If I behaved myself and made it easy, he would be gentle and we could both enjoy this. Otherwise he wouldn't be gentle, and did I know how easy it would be to hurt someone with rough sex? I don't actually, but I could guess, and I definitely didn't want to get hurt down there. I told him that I would behave, and do whatever he wanted. He made me lay down on my stomach, and then he…" I choked a little, and could barely get the words out. But I had to. Not only for me, and for Puck, but for all the other people that aren't here because of them. "That was when he raped me."

"Did it hurt?"

"Yeah." The word came out funny, more like a breath of air then a real word, but I must have been loud enough because he nodded. "It hurt a lot. I was crying before it was done" The crying was mostly because I was so humiliated and not so much because of the pain, but telling them that couldn't hurt.

That's the third (or fourth, or fifth, or maybe it's only the second) reason I'm not doing it with Kurt. I don't want to hurt him, period. And as long as we're talking about it, I definitely don't want him to hurt me.

"Finn, do you know the date that this happened?"

"No." That's one of those questions that doesn't sound important, but it really is. If it was before May 5th, I had been raped, period. If it was after, then they had to prove that I hadn't given consent. If saying no and crying wasn't proof of not consenting I'm not sure what is, but I guess that's part of the jury's job.

I do think that it was before my birthday, but I can't be sure. Living with the Wrights was like living in a fucking carnival house. They never let me just watch TV like a normal person. If they had done that, I would have been able to use the satellite to look for the date. The only thing I knew for sure was if it was a weekend or a weekday, and sometimes not even that. Sometimes I would count five days in a row that Joseph went to work, and think that the next day must be Saturday and he would be home, but he would go to work then, too. Or he would work two days in a row, and then be come for two. But if I asked, they would always tell me that he had worked only five days in a row, and then it was the weekend. They were so convincing, though, that I always ended up thinking that it was me who got confused or didn't count right.

Mr. Robison nodded at me, and I tried to think of something else to say. "After it was over, I didn't even look up. I just kept my face in the mattress and kept crying. He tried patting my back, but I jerked away from him so he just left me alone. When dinner was ready, Lily came up instead of him. She brought me a plate and sat with me while I was eating."

"Did she say anything to you about what had just happened?"

Of course she did. Neither one of them ever shut up about anything. "Yeah. She tried to make me feel better about what had happened. Like, she kept telling me that Joseph hadn't meant to hurt me, and that he felt really bad that I was crying now and why didn't I got downstairs and tell him that it was ok? He had just raped me, and it was still all about him and his feelings being hurt. Yeah, well my feelings were hurt too, and so was my ass." That hadn't sounded funny in my head, but I heard a few people snicker and realized that it kind of was. In a sick way, not a normal one, but at least I know Puck would have appreciated it.

"Finn, I need you to focus. What else did Lily say?"

"She asked if I was bleeding, or if he had hit me anywhere. So she knew what he was willing to do to me. I told her no. Then she put her hand on my back and asked if I wanted her to tell Joseph that I was really tired and needed to go to bed early. I said yeah, and she let me go back downstairs. It was really weird and unusual because she was almost never alone with me unless I was chained up. I think Joseph thought I might hurt her to try and get out of the house."

"Would you have?"

"No. He already said that she didn't have the code, and, even if she did, he was still down there. I could get out, but he had the car and could run me down. I just walked down to my room and curled up on the mattress. I wanted to be left alone, but Joseph came in with the handcuffs. It was like his version of tucking me in. I wouldn't even look at him the whole time he did it. After he was done, he sat on the side of the mattress and sighed real deep. Then he apologized."

"For raping you?"

"He didn't call it that. He said he was sorry for pushing me into it, and for not recognizing that I needed a little more time to be comfortable with the idea of us having sex. I didn't say anything to him about that, because what was I supposed to say? I just laid there and pretended I was anywhere else. He rubbed my shoulder for a minute, but I wouldn't do anything. I didn't even jerk away this time. He actually put his hands on me and rolled me over, so I had to look at him. He gave me half of a baby monitor, and told me that I could use it to call him and Lily if I needed something at night, like the bathroom. Before that, I just had to pee in the bucket if I got desperate. He gave me a soda, too. Usually he didn't give me anything to drink at night. I told him thank you, and I put the drink and walkie-talkie next to the bed. He left and didn't touch me again."

That was all I could really say about the night he first raped me, but it didn't seem like enough. I don't know why I didn't cry when I was telling them about it, because I had cried at the time, and I still sometimes cry when I think about it. But now that we were here, and at the one point in this trial that I probably should be crying, nothing was happening. I wasn't going to fake it, because everyone would probably be able to tell that I was faking.

"Finn, is there anything else you want to tell me about that night?" Mr. Robison must have thought that I needed something else, too.

My stupid brain spun and melted. Why couldn't I be more like Kurt, who always knew what to say? "I didn't want him to touch me. He knew it, too, no matter what he says."

"Thank you, Finn. What happened after that?"

"Things got weird. Well, they were already weird, but it got worse. The next morning he was extra nice when he woke me up. He was….he was almost_ flirty_ with me. Before he just told me what to do and I didn't have a choice. After we had sex, he started asking me what my opinion on stuff was. When I went out in the living room, he had bought me an X-box, and 52 games. I know, because I counted them. Good games, too, not the cheap ones and definitely the ones that were MA and Mom didn't want me playing. He said that I could play it whenever I wanted, even if he and Lily were using the TV first. Suddenly I was the most important person in the house."

"He was nicer to you?"

"Way nicer. He treated me like a boyfriend that he wanted to impress. He even started taking me out on dates. Real dates, that were outside the house. That was a week or so after he did it. I hadn't even gotten fresh air in forever, because he didn't even open the windows. You have no idea how cool it was."

"Wasn't he afraid that you would run if he let you outside?"

If you had asked me then, I would have said no. That Joseph knew everything, and had a plan for anything I might try. But now I know that that's wrong. The reason Joseph got away with what he had done for so long was that he had me too scared to even try and escape. It looks easy now, but nothing was easy there. "I think he was, so he made a bunch of rules for me to follow. He said that if I behaved myself and did exactly what he wanted, he would take me out again, but if I didn't, he would take away all my privileges."

"Tell us what sort of privileges you had by then." What he was really saying was that he wanted me to remind them what I was willing to fight to save, and how pathetic the privileges I wanted really were.

"My X-box and games. Being able to watch TV. Having Lily make me food I liked for dinner and lunch. Having the door open even when I was chained up. My walkie-talkie." They really didn't sound like much when I listed them out, but it didn't make them any less important to me.

"So he could easily make things worse for you if you didn't comply with him?"

Only in about a million ways. "Uh-huh. Before he even let me have breakfast, he sat me down in the living room, and we went over the rules. Don't move once you're in the car. Lily would sit with me in the backseat and help me keep quiet. Don't make eye contact with anyone. Don't take your hands off of your knees, period. Don't talk to anyone, not even him or Lily, unless he specifically asked. Don't do anything that might make someone look at you. Then there was the big one: don't try to get anyone to help you. If you do, we're going to have the gun with us and you won't be going back to our house period. There's a lot of desert out there."

"He actually came out and threatened your life?" He had to act all shocked, even though we both knew everything I was going to say.

"Yes. He wasn't kidding at all, I could tell. He looked at me the same way he looked at Puck right before he shot him. Just because he liked me right then didn't mean he wouldn't get rid of me if he thought he needed to. By the time we were actually ready to leave, I almost didn't want to. I was pretty freaked out."

"When I got in the car, Lily sat down next to me. She pushed my shirt up so my side was uncovered and she put the shock gun up against it. She said if I did anything to draw attention or if I moved away, she would shock me and never let me out again. I put my hands on my knees like he said to, and Joseph pulled out. He was all fake cheerful, like we were any family out for a drive. I didn't want them to think that I was going to be bad, so I just sat there and looked at the floorboards. Joseph thought that was really funny. He said 'Jeremy, come on now. We're taking this trip just for you, so you could at least pretend to enjoy it. I'm not going to be upset if you look out the window. You can even pick where we eat lunch. But we're going to have to eat in the car, so pick wisely.' I told him that I wanted McDonalds, even though I wasn't sure if I could eat anything. He did it, but first he drove around for a long time and let me look at stuff. We had to go a long time before we saw anything except a lot of red dirt, so he wasn't kidding about me not being able to get help quickly if I tried to run away." For the first time, I started getting a little choked up. Before he had taken me out, I had still hoped that someone would help me, and that I would somehow get home. But that empty desert, which was where I knew my body was going to end up, just drove home how alone I really was, and that there was no one to help, period.

"Did he get you the food?"

"Yeah. He even supersized it for me, even though he usually wouldn't. He drove us back out into the middle of nowhere so Lily wouldn't have to hold the Taser on me while we ate. I hadn't had any sort of fast food in a while, so it tasted really good. Then we went home. When we got there, Joseph asked if I had had a good time, and I told him yes and thanked him for lunch. He was always nicer to me when I was nicer to him. Then he wanted me to give him a blow job, but I was pretty much expecting he would want that, so I didn't fight him. After that, he and Lily watched some TV, and I read a book they had given me. I had to stay in the room with them and not wander, but they didn't pay any attention to me. Then it was bedtime and Joseph chained me up again. He looked at me, and he said 'see, Jeremy, how much fun we can have as a family when you behave yourself and do as you're told? This is how easy and fun things can be every day when you quit fighting me.' So basically he told me to just let him do whatever he wanted to my body, and I could get McDonalds and a car ride. I'm pretty sure that professional hookers get paid more then that."

"I didn't say that to him, though. I just nodded and pretended that I totally agreed with him. That made him really happy. He said that we couldn't go out every day, but we would go at least two or three times a week."

"Did he keep that promise as well?"

"Yes. He started talking me out more and more. At first it was with Lily, but once he saw I wasn't going to do anything it would be just us. The longer it went on, the more relaxed he got about going places where people might see me. Then he told me that, since I had been extra good for him, he would let me get out of the car at the gas station and go inside. But if I did anything to try and get someone's attention, or even if I thought about it, he would not only shoot me, but everyone in the gas station. I didn't want that to happen, so I didn't say anything to the guy behind the counter. I didn't even look at him, so Joseph wouldn't think I was getting any ideas. No one got shot, and I got to see actual people other then Joseph and Lily. It was pretty exciting."

"Finn, I'm going to stop you there for a minute. There's something else that happened about this time that we need to address before we go any further. Tell me about what happened with Lily while Joseph was at work."

I knew exactly what he wanted me to talk about, and this was going to be one of the worst parts to tell. Not because what happened was worse then anything else, but because I knew that no one was going to believe me. Kurt doesn't think that I know it, but I do. Lily's not even as old as Mom, and she's kind of pretty. I can see how some other teenage boy would be super excited about getting to have sex with her. If I hadn't known what kind of sick person she really is, I might have even been excited. I picked at my sleeve. "Joseph was really worried that he would get caught with me, even though he pretended not to be. Then he thought that maybe Lily would turn on him and get a deal. So he tried to make things so they both did everything, so she couldn't blame it all on him. She had to be the one to hit me with the Taser, or chain me up sometimes. She also had to go with him to get me, because then they were both kidnappers, instead of just him. So when he raped me, she had to be part of that, too. One Saturday, Joseph told her to take me up to the bedroom, and not come out until she had had sex with me."

For about five seconds, you could have heard a pin drop in the courtroom. Then it exploded with noise and everyone talking at once. The judge pounded his hammer thing, and was yelling for everyone to be quiet or he would throw all of them out. It got the worst of it under control, but now everyone was looking at me like I was a bug under a microscope. Everyone in Lima knew that someone had been charged with raping me, but everyone assumed that it was Joseph. Well, it was, but Lily was getting charged right along with him. Good. At least I keep telling myself that it's good. Maybe it is and maybe it isn't. I don't know for sure.

I wanted to look over at the jury again, just to see if I could read their faces and tell what they were thinking, but I didn't have the balls. Maybe they wouldn't believe that it was what it was.

_Then make them believe it, stupid._

That was a good thought, and I pushed forward. "She didn't even try to get out of it. She just took me upstairs and told me to get undressed. I like girls, so I thought that I would like it more then I had with Joseph, but I didn't. It still felt wrong, and I just wanted it to be over. I didn't cry when it happened like I did when Joseph did it, but she didn't hurt me, either. When we were done, she got dressed right away, but wouldn't let me put my clothes back on. She just stood there and looked at me. I tried to cover myself up, but she pushed my hands away. She said I had a nice body, and there was nothing to be ashamed of. I wasn't ashamed, but I didn't want her staring at it, either. Finally she told me that things were even now, and we didn't have to talk about it any more. That was pretty much how we dealt with everything. It happened and then we just pretended that it didn't. So I thought that would be the end of it."

"Was it?"

"No. I thought she was just going to do it once, because Joseph told her to, but it didn't happen that way. She would wait for him to leave for work then she would make me have sex with her. She said that she was teaching me, just like Joseph did."

"How often did this happen?"

"I had to have sex with her every couple of days. But she would make me do other things, umm…like with my mouth and stuff pretty much every day." I couldn't believe I was talking about going down on some chick right in front of Mom. Not only that, in front of my boyfriend and stepdad, too. I laid my head down in my arms for a minute, just to block out what was happening to me. Seriously? This time last year my biggest worry was trying to get into either Quinn or Rachel's pants, not trying to keep perverts from getting into mine.

"Finn, I know that you're embarrassed, but I'm almost done, I promise. What did Joseph say about Lily wanting to have sex with you?"

"I don't know. I don't even know if he knew about it except for the first time, but I didn't want to be the one to tell him." I might be wrong, but my gut told me that having sex with Lily was only ok if he was the one who told us to do it. If we were doing it without his permission….well, it would probably be worse then a smack on the mouth.

"Alright, I'm going to move on. Tell me what happened that night that someone came to the door."

Thank God, we were almost done. "It was a weekend, so we were all watching a movie. Joseph and Lily were sitting on the couch, and I was laying in the floor in front of it." If I sat on the couch with them one of them would always try and touch my junk. Sometimes they both would. If I wanted my body to myself, I needed to stay on the floor. "I think it was Braveheart. Or maybe Lord of the Rings. I can't really remember now. Someone started pounding on the front door and scared the crap out of me. Joseph grabbed my arm and yanked me up to my feet. He told me to go to my room and be nice and quiet while Lily got the door. While he was chaining me up, he told me that he had invited some of his friends over to play with me, and it would be my choice whether it went easy or hard for me. It made sense. I mean, who would be friends with a pervert except other perverts? He said if I started making noise or cried or asked them for help, he would be very, very angry with me. He turned the light off on me, and left me sitting in the dark. I wanted to plug in my nightlight, but he hadn't said it was ok, so I didn't. I laid down and waited for what felt like forever. Finally, it was so long that I fell asleep. But I woke up really fast when they started screaming at each other."

"Do you know what they were fighting about?"

"It was the police at the door, not his friends. He just made that part up so I would keep quiet. Someone had actually reported seeing me, and they were coming to check things out. But there wasn't any evidence, so they ended up leaving. Joseph was freaking out because he knew that they would be back. He accused Lily of doing something, and she told him that it was his own fault, because he was the one who kept taking me out of the house. If he hadn't done that, no one would have noticed me. That was when he hit her."

"Did you see him do it?"

"No, the door was still closed and locked. But I heard it, and when he opened my door, her eye was kind of puffy and red. I was pretending that I was asleep, but I kind of cracked on eye open to look at them. Joseph called my name a couple of times, but I didn't do anything so he thought I was really asleep. Then turned to Lily and told her that they couldn't keep me now because it was too dangerous. She agreed with him. I had been with them for months, ate dinners with them, had sex with both of them, and basically done been in their sight all day long, and they were still willing to kill me just like that. They talked about doing it right then, but Joseph thought I might get suspicious and fight back. So they left me alone. The door wasn't closed, so I thought I might be able to fight free. I fought all night long, but all I did was hurt both of my wrists."

"I'm going to stop you again, there, and ask the jury to look at exhibit 10. These pictures were taken at Lima General Hospital, where Finn was treated four days later."

Actually, I was pretty interested to see this myself. I remembered the hospital, but it was the same way you remember a dream a few hours after you wake up. It was like none of it was real.

The pictures were real, though, and they were no way to make them look like anything but what they were. In the first one, you could see my face, so you knew that it was actually me in the pictures, and the next two were just of my wrists. They looked terrible. I mean, really, really gross, like my ribs had looked after I broke four of them playing football. I wondered if he picked those pictures because they were the clearest, or just because they looked the worst.

Guess what? The prosecution can lie just like the defense does.

"Sorry for the interruption, Finn. Please continue."

"When he woke me up the next morning, he acted like nothing had happened. He told me that he had thought about it, and decided that he wasn't going to share me after all. I told him that I was grateful, and he said that I should show him how happy I was. He kept me with him all day long, making me do some really gross sex things." Please, please don't ask what those things were.

He didn't, but he did ask something worse. "Finn, was there ever a time when you approached either Joseph or Lily for something sexual, instead of the other way around?"

Great. There was no real way for me to answer this and still look good so I just decided to be as honest as possible. "Yeah."

"Can you describe some of those times to me?"

"I never really wanted him to touch me, but..." I stopped for a second to try and gather my thoughts. "When he got mad, he got rough with me, too. He only hit me a couple of times, but he would yank my arm, or put the cuffs on too tight, or be a little too rough when we had sex. So if I saw he was starting to get mad, I would offer to suck him off, or put my hand down his pants. That always put him in a good mood and kept me safe."

"What about actual sexual intercourse? Did that ever happen?"

"Only once. Joseph was running an errand, and it was just Lily and me. She was taking a shower, and I was walking around the house and being nosy. I never got to look at anything without them hanging over my shoulder, so I was able to take my time. I ended up in Josephs office, where I had never been before. I was looking at some pictures and files when Joseph came home and caught me. I thought I would hear the garage door come up, but I hadn't. He was pissed. Super pissed. The way he looked at me was like that way he looked at Puck right before he killed him. I thought that if I didn't do something really quick, I was going to end up dead. He knew that I was trying to play him, but he didn't want to lose his chance to do it without me being miserable. Afterwards, he was still mad, but it was a calm mad. He just told me that the office was his private space, and not to go in there again. I agreed, and that was that. We didn't talk about it again." My heart was beating so hard that I was surprised my shirt didn't move.

"What was in the pictures and files that he got so upset about?"

I couldn't answer. If I answered honestly, I would be breaking the rule about not talking about cases except for this one. If I lied, I was committing perjury. If I didn't answer at all, I looked like I was hiding something and then no one would believe anything I said. What was I supposed to do? I tried looking at the lawyer for help, but he was waiting for me to answer. No matter what I did, I was wrong and I was going to get Joseph off.

Suddenly my throat closed and I couldn't breathe. I kept trying to get air, but nothing was happening. The judge was pounding his hammer, and someone grabbed my arm and drug me out of the courtroom. "Finn, Finn. Finn, it's alright."

It _wasn't._ Couldn't they see that? I wasn't breathing and you can only go like five minutes without breathing before you get brain damage and die. It already felt like it had been more then that.

I was able to take in a tiny breath when I realized that the person standing with me was one of the Lima police officers. I knew him, and I could ask him how to answer the question. The pressure on my chest loosened a little more. Someone else patted my shoulder. "Finn? Can you tell me what happened? Are you epileptic or diabetic?"

Since I wasn't 100% sure what either one of those things were, my guess would be no. I shook my head. "Alright, put your head down between your knees for a minute and just take deep breaths. I've already sent for your family."

Having my head down helped a lot, and my chest eased up even more. I was almost normal when Mom came in and wrapped her arms around me. She was wearing a perfume that I don't like because Burt picked it out, but it suddenly smelled really good. I pressed my face against her and hugged back. No, she couldn't actually do anything to help me, but I wouldn't mind having a few minutes to pretend she could.

"Cowboy, you're doing great. Total rock star." Kurt scratched the back of my neck the way I like it. "You've been perfect."

Perfect didn't freak out on the stand, but I appreciated him trying to make me feel better. I tried to smile at him, even though I'm pretty sure it didn't look very good. "Thanks."

Burt sat down next to me. "What happened, Champ?"

Even though I don't always like Burt, I do like it when he calls me that. I've never had a cool nickname like that before. "I don't know what to say. What I saw had to do with other people that they kept at the house, but I'm not supposed to talk about that. What do I do?" Please, please, tell me. If he told me, I would love him forever.

He didn't exactly have the best advice, but at least he had something. "You don't need to worry about that. If it's a problem, the lawyers will sort it out. It's not your job to fix things."

How did he make things sound so easy? Maybe if I hadn't panicked, I would have been able to think of that. I nodded weakly at him. "That makes sense, I guess."

Mr. Robison came out and sat down next to me. "Are you feeling any better, Finn?"

"Yeah." I tried to sound better then I felt, but I don't think it was working very well.

"Ok, you have a choice to make. If you feel like you're up to it, you can get back up there and keep going. Or, if you would rather, I'll call for a break, and we can resume things tomorrow."

That was the last thing that I wanted. It was bad enough to wake up one morning and know that I had to tell everything that happened. It was worse knowing that it would be at least one more when the defense lawyer got his turn. But to make it three? No fucking way. I shook my head. "I want to keep going."

"Baby, are you sure?" Mom pushed my hair back so she could look me in the eyes. "Because you don't have to."

I liked 'Champ' better then 'Baby'. It made me feel tougher. "I'm sure. I can do this, Mom, I promise."

She didn't look sure, but Samantha keeps telling everyone to let me make my own choices, so she kind of had to go along with it. Kurt squeezed my hands. "You can do it, I promise."

Kurt hates lying, so I knew that he was telling me the truth. "I can."

"Let's go, then." He put his hand on my back to lead me back into the courtroom. "The faster we get back in there, the easier it will be on both of us. Just keep your chin up and don't act like being taken out was any big deal."

I should have asked him what I should say, but I didn't think of it until it was too late. Shit. I kept my eyes on the lawyer when I climbed back up into the witness box. I could do this.

"Finn, I'm going to go back to what we were talking about before. Can you tell me what you saw on those files?"

"People. About my age, maybe a little older. No one looked younger then 15 or so and no one older then about 20. In the pictures, they were in the Wright's house. Most of them were in the same room that I lived in. None of them looked happy."

The kids in those pictures were dead. They were dead because the Wright's killed them. I knew it, and everyone in the courtroom had to know it, too. But no one could come out and say it. Yeah, I know, stupid.

"Did you recognize any of the people in the photographs?"

"No."

"Did Joseph say anything about them at that point or any other?"

"No."

"Alright. I want to move on to the day after the police came. Did anything out of the ordinary happen?"

I nodded. "He told me that we were going to have an extra fun night. Instead of just staying at the house, he was going to take Lily and me camping out in the desert. I knew that he would kill me he took me out there, so I told him that I didn't really like camping. He said that he didn't care, and we were all going. I didn't want to make him suspicious, so I agreed to go. I thought that I would wait until we were out of the driveway and just freak out. Even if he had the baby locks on again, I could fight until he had a wreck. I didn't care if it killed me. I wasn't going to just walk off like a lamb to slaughter."

The panic surged up in my chest again, and I took a deep breath to keep it down. "I didn't fight him or anything, but he figured out that I knew what was going on. He didn't do anything until we were getting close to town. Then Lily leaned over the front seat and said 'Jeremy, what in the world is all over your shirt?' When I looked down and grabbed me and shocked me with the Taser. I can't believe I fell for that again. It hurt as much as it had the first time, but at least I knew what to expect, so I immediately started fighting as hard as I could. We both knew that the gig was up, and it was life or death. I couldn't move very well, but I could do it a little, so she shocked me again. This time she got me in the stomach, and it made me throw up. I was really scared then, because Puck told me one time that that you can choke on your own puke, and that wasn't how I wanted to die."

"Normally I would have thought that Puck was exaggerating, but Lily started swearing and yanked me up so I could cough it out. Then Joseph screamed at her because I could have died in the car. Not that I could have died, but that I could have done it in his car. It kind of made me want to do it out of spite."

"Did he say anything to you?"

"Yeah. He actually apologized to me for what he was about to do. He said he had to,; and he was sure that I understood. Yeah, like I was just supposed to smile and tell him it was fine to kill me. I don't think so. Since we both already knew that I was going to have to die, I didn't even pretend to be nice to him. I just crossed my arms over my chest and gave him the worlds nastiest look. Fuck him."

"Where did he take you?"

"The desert. I don't know exactly where, but we were in the car for an hour and 17 minutes. I know because I was watching the clock. I thought that if I made it out alive, I would be able to tell someone about it some day. If I didn't...well, at least I didn't spend the last hour and 17 minutes of my life panicking."

"When he came to get me out of the car, he had the gun in his hand. That made me feel a little better, because I knew that he was a good shot and he wouldn't make me suffer. One shot to the back of the head and I would be done. Gone. No more Finn. But he was swearing before I even got out of the e car. It was really flat there, and you could see for about million miles in any direction. And what we could see was a boy scout troop that was camping out there. And if we could see them, they could see us, and Joseph wasn't going to shoot off a gun and get their attention. So he made me get back in the car. Joseph was driving around, but he was mostly yelling at us. He didn't want to take me back to the house, because he thought that the police could come back at any minute. But he couldn't figure out what else to do with me. If he didn't leave my body in the middle of nowhere, he thought that they would trace it back to him and Lily. I thought that I was going to die for sure."

"What changed?" He was gentle, like he didn't already know all the answers.

"Lily stuck up for me. She told Joseph to just take me home. But not home like back to their house. Home like to my home here in Lima. She said that I was a good boy, and I wouldn't tattle on them. I kept nodding like I totally agreed with them."

I still don't know why Lily did that. Yeah, she liked me just fine, and sometimes I felt like it was me and her against Joseph, but I never thought that she would have chosen me over him. I definitely wouldn't' have thought she would choose me over herself. But she did. She had to have known that fear wouldn't keep me quiet forever, and that I would eventually tell someone. I knew their names, and I knew what the house looked like, which was more then enough to figure out everything else. Even if they freaked me out so badly that I wouldn't get on the stand, there had to be enough evidence somewhere.

I kind of think that she knew all of that. Lily's not stupid. Well, she's stupid because she stays with Joseph, and she's still staying with him instead of taking a deal and testifying against him, but she's not a dumb person. I kind of think that she was tired of everything and wanted it to be over just like I did. Except I don't think she just wanted it to be over with me, I think she wanted everything over. The kidnapping and the killing and being with Joseph. I only had to live like that for a few months. I can't imagine what it would be like to do it for years. Don't get me wrong, I still hate her for what she did, but I kind of feel bad for her, too.

"Joseph didn't want to do it, but I don't think he had any better ideas, so he finally agreed. He said if he took me back to their house, and I did one last thing for him, he would take me back to Lima. I told him I would do anything he wanted."

"What did he want you to do?"

"He..." My voice choked again, and I had to take a few deep breaths. "He knew that eventually I would talk, and he wanted to have a plan in place for when I did. So when we got home, he sent me up to take a shower while he set the camera up. He wanted me to dry off, but come downstairs naked. He called it having something to remember me by, but really it was just insurance."

"What did he ask you to do once you were being recorded?"

"He wanted me to jerk off on camera, like it was a porno. I was supposed to make it really good, and say slutty things and talk about how much I loved him and Lily. That way, he could pull it out and show everyone that I really did want to be there."

"Did you do what he asked?"

I would have done anything that he asked right then, because he was telling me that I could go home. Even if it was probably a lie, I was willing to grab on to even the smallest chance of seeing my family again. "Yeah. It didn't go very well at first, because I was really scared and embarrassed, and I couldn't really get it up. I finally did, and I did what he told me to and I didn't cry, so he said it was good enough and that we were going to leave right then."

Knowing that all of the police in Lima have seen that video, and that they were probably going to show it to everyone later in the trial made me want to die a little. Even if it was only the jury who saw it, it was still too much. There wasn't anything I could do about it, though, so I just had to suck it up.

"Were you ever afraid that this was just another trick, and he was trying to get you back out of the house without a fight?"

"Not really. I could tell when Lily was lying, and usually when Joseph was, too. They wanted me gone, and this was just the easiest way for them to do it. They didn't let me take any of the stuff they had bought for me, but I didn't want to keep any of it anyway. I would never be able to see it without thinking that I had earned it by letting a pair of strangers fuck me. Um, they were both still kind of pissed with each other about everything that had happened, so we didn't talk much. I mostly just sat in the backseat and hoped that it would be over soon."

"Did you make any extra stops this time?"

"Yeah. Once we got to Illinois, we stopped at a truck stop and ate dinner. Then Joseph paid for me to go take a shower. When I came out, he had brand new clothes for me, even underwear. He told me to put them on, and throw the old ones in a dumpster. There was a heavy hoodie, and it was really hot out, but I didn't complain. Once we got close, he made me lay down in the seat and just tell him how to get to Kurt's house. Only I got us lost because I couldn't look for landmarks and I didn't remember the street names. That pissed him off again, but eventually we found it."

"What did he do when you got to the house?"

"He stopped across the street and leaned over to talk to me. He told me that I should be really grateful to him for giving me this extra chance and letting me come home and that I should remember that when I thought about opening my big mouth. But if I did make a bad choice and blab, he would come back and he would kill Burt. Then he would rape Mom, and kill her too. Then he would take Kurt, and Kurt could be my replacement. I promised him that I wouldn't do that, and that I really was grateful to him. That satisfied him, and he told me to get out of the car and count to 10,000 so he and Lily could get back on the highway. When I was done counting, I could knock on the door and go inside."

A lot of what happened then is blurry, but I can clearly remember walking up to the front door of my house. The steps were familiar, with the creaky second one. The railings were smooth and clean, with no paint chips, because Kurt takes good care of them. The grass was mowed and everything looked exactly the same. That sameness was what made it weird. I was so different then I had been the last time I walked up these steps that it felt like everything in the world should be. But it wasn't. "I knocked on the door, but no one was there. It was past six, so Burt should have been home, even if Mom was still at the hospital. At least Kurt should have been there, but he wasn't. It was just me. I waited, but no one came home, and it started getting dark. I thought about going over to one of his neighbors houses, and asking to use the phone, but I couldn't make myself do it. I knew that they would come back soon if I was patient."

"How long did it take for someone to come home?"

"Not until the next day. I ended up falling asleep out there and not waking up until late the next morning. I was scared to be alone out there, but I was even scareder to go ask strangers to help me. They probably wouldn't be as mean as Lily and Joseph, but I wasn't sure. I mean, they looked normal when you first saw them, too. That was when Kurt came home. I think I scared the crap out of him when he walked up the steps and saw me."

"What did Kurt do?"

"He just ran up to me and hugged me. He was asking me where I had been and stuff, but I couldn't answer. I didn't want to lie to him, but if I told him the truth, Joseph would hurt him. So it was just safer for me not to say anything at all. Mom and Burt were in New Mexico, because the police told them that that were where I was, so he called them and took me to the hospital to be looked at. That's really all that I remember."

"Finn, did you go with the Wrights voluntarily the night Puck died?"

"No." I breathed out a sigh of relief. He was going over everything again, which meant he was almost done with me.

"Did you ask them to let you go home?"

"Yes."

"When it came to sexual contact, did you tell them that you were uncomfortable and didn't want to be have sex with either one of them?"

"Yes."

"Have you been honest and truthful with me to the best of your abilities today?"

"Yes." Even when it was embarrassing and it sucked big time.

"Thank you, Finn. I have no further questions for you right now. Due to it being so late in the day, I think we should wait until tomorrow to start the cross-examination."

That's lawyer talk for 'you can go away, now', which was fine with me. I was a little shaky when I stepped out of the box, but I thought I was doing pretty good. I was supposed to go out into the hallway and wait for my family, so we could leave right away. It would cut down on the number of reporters that could get in my face

As much as I love my family, I was really hoping that they would give me some space, too. The story that I told today on the stand was the absolute truth, which I hadn't given to any of them. I kind of smoothed over some of the bad stuff, because I didn't want them to be upset and because some of it was embarrassing for me. But now everyone knew everything whether I liked it or not.

But maybe that was a good thing. Now there was nothing left to hide, and we could all move on from it together. This wouldn't be as bad as I was imagining it could be, right?

_Finessa, you're going on the rag again. Quit your hormonal PMS bullshit and act like a man. You owned that courtroom in there. Every juror was hanging on what you said, and they believed you. The hard part is done. Dude, you're a total rock star._

It was like Puck was right there next to me, his arm over my shoulders and his mouth almost touching my ear. You know what? He was right. I had been strong up there, and I should be proud of myself. No matter what happened tomorrow, I could do it. I was pretty tough after all, who would have guessed?


	49. Chapter 49

When I'm with you, the only place I want to be is closer. – Unknown

"Fi-in. Fi-in. Fi-in. Fi-in. Fi-in Fi-in Fi-in Fi-in" I whispered his name to the tune of the Jaws theme song while trailing my hand across the comforter. He didn't move, but I did here a muffled snicker from under the covers. Then, without warning, I thrust my hand under and grabbed him by the thigh, giving him a rough pinch. "Jaws attack!"

He's ticklish there, so he immediately squirmed away laughing. Finn's laughter is contagious, so I started giggling as well, flipping the blankets back so I could have a better idea of what I was doing.

It was a silly game, but it was more then that as well. Every time I touch Finn and he doesn't' flinch away, we're making progress. He's wanted to touch me over the clothes twice since the first time, but has still refused to let me return the favor. I don't want to do anything to force or pressure him, but I do want him to be used to non-sexual touches. I had progressed to moving high on his thighs and lower then his bellybutton, so I considered it a win.

I was also checking to make sure he was warmed up after a shower and spending some time under the comforter. He had held himself together much better after testifying yesterday then he had after I had done so, but he had still been over the top with energy, almost bouncing off the walls.

Even though it was only in the mid 70's outside, I finally broke down and begged Rachel to let us come over so he could go swimming. Two hours of his constant movement this morning had driven me absolutely crazy. He was miserable, but so keyed up that he was unable to stop and calm himself down.

Neither one of us would go in with him, so we chatted while he swum laps and turned somersaults underwater. Rachel watched him, her expression thoughtful. "I don't know how you deal with this. I couldn't do it."

"I don't have a choice. Neither does he. It's not like he's deliberately trying to drive us all crazy. Anyway, he's not like this all the time."

Finn hit the wall on the far side of the pool and turned back towards us. Rachel watched his body with an undeniable interest that made me want to choke her. That was my boyfriend that she was ogling.

_She doesn't know that. Nobody outside your family knows that, so don't get bitchy. In her mind, he's a former boyfriend who could quite easily become the current boyfriend with a little coaxing._

I knew that, and that I was being unfair. Rachel had done everything that she could to make things easy for Finn, including giving up her usual vocal routines so we could come over and swim. "How's he doing, Kurt? I mean really."

I didn't even have to think about my answer. "Better. Way better today then a week ago. Once his testifying is done, I think he'll be better still. Of course, none of us are going to breathe easy until the trial is over and they go to jail, but Finn's improving all the time."

"I miss Puck more then I thought I would." She twirled a finger around her hair as she spoke. "I mean, he was never my friend. He was Finn's friend, and a member of the club, but that was it. I mean, it was less then six months that we were all together."

That wasn't possible. I counted back and realized that she was right. School started in September, and Glee in October. We got Finn at the end of that month, but we didn't get Puck until almost Thanksgiving. Puck had died in the middle of March. How could all of this have happened so quickly?

I missed Puck myself, but less for who he was, and more for the pain Finn was going through. Every time I saw Finn turn away from the pictures of them together, or, worse, study them with a strange intensity, it hurt on a visceral level. I had offered to put the pictures away until h was ready to see them again, but he had shaken his head. For good or for bad, he wanted those visual reminders.

"Yeah." I wasn't sure how to respond to that, so I went with non-committal.

"People are talking about him, you know. After yesterday." It was what she had wanted to talk about all along, but had to work her way up to.

"I know." Of course I knew. It was on the front page of the paper this morning, in all the lurid detail. Dad had already disposed of it by the time Finn woke up, but my boyfriend had stubbornly fished it out of the bottom of the recycling bin when he thought no one was looking. I hadn't called him on it, and the paper was nowhere to be found when I looked for it later. "I think everyone knows."

"This is going to make things even harder for him. No one is going to know how to talk to him now."

What she meant was that _she_ didn't know how to talk to him now. "Well, you and I are just going to have to remind them that Finn is the same today as he's always been. Ok, maybe not always, but since he's been back. This is only news to us."

"Did you know about it?" Her eyes bored into mine with an intensity that she usually saved for right before competitions.

I watched Finn dive to the bottom of the pool, following his form until I couldn't see it any more. He had to be aware that we were talking about him, even if our voices didn't carry. But he let it go on. Maybe he considered us both family and genuinely didn't mind, or maybe he was hoping that I would take care of this part for him. "Some of it. He told me a lot, but he left out a lot of the details, too."

"So did the paper. They didn't….they charged both of them with rape, didn't they? Him and her? The paper didn't say so, but I heard it on the news." She didn't look at either one of us when she spoke.

I hated to violate Finn's privacy, but the truth was that he didn't really have any. If I didn't tell Rachel, there would be dozens of other people who would. "Yes. They charged both of them."

Her eyes squeezed shut. "Poor Finn. He's lucky to have you, Kurt."

Was he? I did what I could for him, and so did everyone else in the family, but we were doing no more then any other family would for someone they loved. Finn was an incredibly special person to have, which made us the lucky ones. Me especially.

_And just why is it that you're lucky enough to have Finn, Kurt? Have you ever thought about that?_

Daily. In my darker moments, I had to acknowledge that the only reason I had Finn now was because of his kidnapping. If it had never happened, he wouldn't have given me a second look. I would just be his new brother, if I was even worth that to him. It hurt to know that I had benefited from his suffering. He never brought it up or seemed to hold it against me, but I can't help but wonder if it's one of the reasons that he's so hesitant to move our relationship forward. "I'm the lucky one."

"He's….Finn's got a way of getting your heart and never getting it back, doesn't he? Quinn can't let him go, and neither can we. Someone's is going to be the luckiest person in the world to get to keep him forever." She still didn't look at me directly, though I noticed she was peeking through her lashes.

What in the world did she mean by that? Before I could ask her, she looked past me and into the pool. "Finn! Your lips are blue! Get out of that pool before you freeze to death."

He gave her a dirty look, but hopped out. "I'm not that cold, really."

This was the thing that Rachel never got about Finn, and why their dating hadn't worked out. She shouted orders at him like a drill sergeant, which naturally made him defensive and argumentative. For someone who hates confrontation, Finn hates being bossed around even more, especially now.

That said, his lips did have a purplish cast to then, and, now that he was out of the water, I could see a slight shiver as well. He needed to be out of the pool and into some dry clothing. But she could have just asked him to come over and sit with us, or if he wanted something to drink. Once he was out, he would quickly lose interest in going back in. That would have taken care of the problem quickly and without anyone getting an attitude.

I stepped in before it could become an argument. "If you aren't cold now, you will be now that you're out of the water. Besides, you're dripping. Why don't you run inside and get dressed, then sit down and grab some cookies."

He might be irritated with Rachel herself, but Finn will never turn down her special lemonade cookies. He nodded and bounced off. Rachel sighed. "Why doesn't he listen to me like that?"

Maybe because he wasn't a dog to be ordered around. I wasn't going to say that to her, though. Finn had chosen me, yes, but I wasn't secure enough to give Rachel Berry any leverage. I loved him, but I didn't fully trust the he wouldn't dump me the second a better offer came along.

Finn was uncharacteristically quiet when he came back, and only ate a dozen cookies, instead of the entire rest of the tray. I scratched his shoulder. "You tired, Cowboy?"

He shrugged, but I could read the truth in his eyes, and so could Rachel. But exhaustion was better then him bouncing off the walls. For once in her life, Rachel took the hint. "Well, as much as I hate to throw you two out, it takes at least three hours of practice a night to keep my voice in top shape. I want to win Nationals this year, and we aren't going to even qualify without a female lead."

"Ok." Finn knew that he was being manipulated, but he was too tired to raise a fuss about it. "I'll see you whenever. I go back on the stand Monday, and then I don't know what's going to happen. Maybe I'll be back in Glee Tuesday, and maybe not. It's just kind of whatever."

"We'll work around it. I'll email you the songs we're doing, and you and Kurt can work on them at home. Once you're solid, I'll come over and we'll work together. Don't worry about any of it."

Hope dawned in his eyes. "You won't give my parts to Sam?"

"Of course not. You're our leading man, Finn; and no one else can come close to that. We're not going to replace you with anyone."

I hadn't even known that he was worried about that. Finn had seemed to accept Sam without a second thought. Sam was friendly and likable and seemed to have bonded quickly with everyone in the group. He made it to every practice, and hung out with us at school, even standing up for us when we were getting harassed. He had taken over Finn's spot in everything else, so why wouldn't he expect that Sam would get his solos as well?

"I don't mind sharing with him. Or Artie, or Matt, or Mike. I especially don't mind sharing with Kurt. But I don't want him to get _all_ the solos."

It would have been nice if Rachel had gotten a clue and offered to share her solos as well, but that might be expecting a bit much of her. At least she was making some effort to console Finn. "You still have the solo during Sectionals, ok? No one is going to take that away from you."

That had worked and he gave us both a million dollar smile. "Cool. I wasn't really that worried about it. Can Kurt and I take some of the cookies home with us?"

I don't even know why Finn bothers to try and lie, since he's so terrible at it, but, like a lot of Finn's traits, it's oddly endearing. Rachel grabbed the tray. "Of course. I baked these for the Glee Club, but since half of them are eaten any way, you can take the rest of them. Just let me wrap them up for you."

As soon as she stepped into the house, Finn had to lean over and kiss me. I pushed him back. "Stop it. What are you going to say if Rachel sees us?"

"Brothers kiss." His eyes were dancing at me.

"Not with tongue! At least not in Ohio."

He was saved from having to reply by Rachel coming back with a prettily wrapped tray. How is it that the girl can present a tray of baked goods in a way that would make Martha Stewart fall to her knees, but still thinks that it's appropriate for a teenaged girl to wear shirt with a cartoon goldfish on it? She handed me the cookies and pulled Finn close to kiss his cheek. "I'm glad you came over to visit today, Finn. Stay focused up there, and don't worry about the Glee club. No matter what, we'll all stand behind you."

"Thanks, Rach." He gave her a funny half smile that made me feel a little out of the loop. The two of them were having a conversation that had nothing to do with me or the cookies. I know that Finn talks to Rachel on the phone sometimes, but I always make sure to give him his privacy.

Which brought me back to now, with Finn laughing and acting like nothing had ever happened. If I didn't know better, I would have said that we were just a normal family.

At least until Finn pulled me down and kissed me hard, his body moving over mine. There was no mistaking his intent, and my breath caught. "Are you sure?"

Of course he was. Finn did nothing without being sure of it. No matter how foolish, he was always sure of himself for that one shining moment. My body knew it, and my dick jumped up. He noticed and immediately reached out for it. Then he abruptly pulled back. "Can I see?"

"Can you what?" I had gotten it the first time, but I was so shocked that I had to ask.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my pants but stopped there. "Can you take off your pants so I can see you?"

I was still in shock. "You want to see my…uh…."

"It's called a cock." There was nothing mocking in his voice. It was like he genuinely thought that I didn't know.

I would have preferred he call it something less crude, but I couldn't focus on that at the minute. I had to be sure. "You want me to take my pants off?"

"Yeah." His head turned slightly to the side. "You don't have to. I mean, if you don't want to."

It wasn't that I didn't want to, or that I thought he would do anything to injure me, because I didn't. It was more that…well, I was kind of scrawny. I had seen Finn's body, once in the house and several times in the locker rooms, and when I compared it to mine the results weren't exactly flattering.

_You really are the ultimate wuss. The man of your dreams just offered to jerk you off, and you're doing anything besides ripping you pants off right now? What is the _matter_ with you?_

Well, when the voice put it that way…I nodded and stood up. Finn's stormy eyes made me feel a little like a stripper about to put on as show, but there wasn't any other way to do this. I pulled my shirt over my head and folded it neatly on the chair. His eyes swept up, then back down to my groin. Yeah, there was no dissuading Finn Hudson when he got his mind set on something. With a deep sigh, I dropped my pants.

Finn gave me his patented goofy grin. "Going commando, Kurt? Hot."

I was going commando because any sort of underwear would show under pants this tight. But he was clearly impressed with what he saw, which gave me a surge of confidence. Not enough confidence that I didn't scramble under the covers as quickly as possible, but enough that I didn't flinch away when he reached for me. We both stared as he traced one finger across my collarbones. "You're really hot. Better then hot. Gorgeous."

_See? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder._

Being called 'gorgeous' had its desired effect, and I felt my body relax. Well, most of it relaxed. At least one part wasn't going down any time soon. But I w as still afraid to have Finn actually touch me.

He noticed and moved his hands off of my body. "I won't hurt you. If you're scared, we don't have to."

I appreciated the way he was offering me the choice that no one had given him. "No, I want to. I'm just nervous."

"You can say stop and I will. I promise."

This time I didn't flinch when he drew a line down my chest and stomach. His finger almost touched me where I wanted, but then he turned and moved back up. I groaned in frustration. What had happened to the Finn Hudson who would have just grabbed a hold of my junk and just gotten right to business? "Finn, please."

"Ok. I just wanted you to be ready." This time when he brought his hand down, he wrapped it firmly around my cock and stroked. "Like this?"

No matter how many times I touched myself, it was nothing compared to having Finn do it. His hands were bigger then mine, and rougher, since he consistently refused to moisturize like I told him to.

He wanted me to think? I tried to make my mouth work. "Yes. Oh, god, yes."

"Good." His hand moved slowly, then faster, then slowly again. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing. "This is good."

'Good' was an understatement. This was like having a 95% off sale at Prada and getting a new car and getting a solo at Nationals all at once. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down on top of me, just so I could kiss him and touch more of his body.

He lightly bit my lip, his hand never stopping. I could feel the pressure building already, and knew that this wasn't going to last at all. But it felt so good that I didn't even care.

As lost as I was in the moment, though, I made myself give Finn a quick once over. His pupils were blown, but this time it was due to arousal instead of fear. There was also the not so small matter of what I could feel pressed against my hip. I took a deep breath and gently pushed his own words back at him. "Can I? Touch you, I mean."

He froze and his hand tightened. Not enough for it to actually hurt, but enough that I definitely felt it. "Um…"

"Only if you want to. We could even do it like you did to me before." I kept my hands in his line of vision and off of his body. This decision was his and his alone.

After what felt like forever, he nodded. "Ok, yeah. But let me do what I'm doing first."

A man who was not only concerned with my pleasure, but actually seemed to be more concerned then he was with his own? How in the world had I managed to get so lucky?

I nodded at him and he began moving his hand again. His hands were gentle but sure, moving fast then slow until I saw nothing but a too bright blur. Still, it wasn't enough. I could barely breathe enough to get the words out, but I tried. "Finn, please."

Even though I had no idea what I was asking for, Finn did. He didn't stop his hand, but he leaned down and kissed me again. It wasn't a hard and dirty kiss like I would have expected. This was incredibly gentle, as soft as snowflakes falling against my lips. The intimacy of the moment took my breath away, and was enough to push me over the edge.

Never in my life had I experienced anything quite like this. I literally saw stars, bright pinpricks of light that took over the entire room. My body jerked as I shot all over his hand and my T-shirt, which I had never taken off. Finn slowed his hand to almost nothing, milking out the last of it.

His expression was charmingly focused, like he was seeing something he hadn't seen a thousand times before. I fisted my hand in his T-shirt, suddenly afraid that what he had done would come crashing down on him and he would bolt.

It didn't turn out to be a concern. Finn gave a heavy sigh and buried his face in my neck, snuggling as close as he could get. I wrapped an arm around his back, trying to hold him even closer. Tears were threatening, even though I had no idea why.

"That was good, right?" The words were mumbled into my skin. "It was ok and I didn't hurt you?"

I kissed his neck, still teary over the almost unbearable sweetness of it all. "It was good. Perfect."

"Good. Good." He nodded, but it was unsure, as if he didn't quite believe me. "It was good."

_Kurt? Aren't you forgetting something? Or someone? Come on now, you made a little promise to Finn a few minutes ago._

It might have been the endorphins still flowing through my body, but I had a sudden surge of courage and pushed up. Finn rocked back and stared curiously at me, his face a giant question mark. I reached for him. "Are you ready for this?"

My voice seemed obscenely loud in the basement, even though I wasn't speaking much above a whisper. Finn nodded, though he was starting to look a little green. I waited a minute more, just so he could give me the verbal confirmation. "Yeah."

There had been a part of me that was almost hoping he would back out. It was selfish and I knew it, but I was almost as nervous as he was. Finn had been touched before, enough to know what he did and didn't like. What if I messed up and it wasn't good for him? What if I couldn't even please him sexually? Or, worse, what if I just retraumatized him?

_You worry way too much. Anything you do to Finn is going to be better then what he's experienced in the past. Just watch his cues and don't make too many sudden movements. This is really depending on you._

Ok, so no pressure. Great. I started to move, then froze, then started to move again. Finn cracked up. "Kurt, I think you're more nervous then I am. And that's kind of saying a lot." He leaned down and gave me a kiss. "This is supposed to be fun."

His laughing broke some of the tension and helped me relax, which helped Finn relax, too. I kissed him again on the nose, just so I could see his eyes cross as he tried to keep tracking me. My hands trembled as they rested on his shoulders, but I moved forward, sliding them down over his ribs and to his hips. This was it, the moment of truth. I kept my eyes locked with his, both to keep the connection between us and to watch him for any signs of distress. And maybe just a tiny bit because I was afraid to look at what I was doing.

Ever so slowly, I ran my hand around his hip and to the front of his pajama pants. They were a thin material, and I knew for a fact that he didn't have anything on underneath them (he's convinced that things need to air out or something like that. Something that definitely makes zero sense), so it wasn't hard to feel, well, _everything_.

I've never touched a penis that wasn't attached to my body, the sensation made us both jump. Finn jerked, but didn't pull away. I kissed his jaw. "Ok?"

"Mmm-hmm." He was breathing rapidly through his nose, making no other noise. "Keep going."

His wish was my command. I stroked him as best as I could while still keeping a layer cloth between us. It was already damp with precum, which made things easier. More then two years of fantasizing, and I was finally getting to touch him. To my surprise, I felt my own dick jump a little. Really? Was that thing never satisfied?

For the first time, Finn moaned. It was a tiny sound, but it was enough to encourage what I was doing. His eyes fluttered closed, but one hand reached up and took my free one. I squeezed lightly, adjusting my angle and making him gasp again. His hips rocked up to meet my hand, begging silently for more contact. I desperately wanted to see all of him, the way he had looked at me, but I had to hold back. I had seen his penis before, but never hard, and I couldn't deny my curiosity.

"Close." The word was gasped out.

"That's ok." I pressed harder against him, trying to push him over the edge. His shirt had ridden up, and I could see his stomach jerking as he tried to catch his breath. "You do what you need to. Any time, Sweetie."

It was like he had been waiting for my permission, because his back bowed up the minute I spoke, and his body stiffened. His cock jerked under my hand and his breathing stopped. I kept rubbing, feeling the wetness come through with each shot. His hand clenched at mine and he whimpered under his breath.

It must have been a full 30 seconds before his orgasm subsided, and even then, his body gave little jerks as he calmed down. I know that he's a big guy, but I had to be impressed by the amount of semen he had managed to produce.

_Yes, dear, you managed to get him off in a rather spectacular way. Don't get too smug about it. On second thought, that was pretty impressive. _

Finn moved his hand to tug at my shirt. "Kiss?" His voice was hoarse.

I always had a kiss for him. "Of course." I rested a hand on his chest, feeling his heart gradually slow down to a normal pace. Now that the heat of the moment had passed, we were both a little embarrassed and unsure.

Finn turned his head away from me and shivered a little. It always worries me when he does things like this, because I don't know how to react. Was he trying to pull back because had hurt or scared him? Was he stuck in a loop of imagining what the Wrights had done to him? Or was he just a little bit shy because it was the first time he had done something like this with me. I stroked his hair. "Cowboy?"

He didn't turn, but he didn't tense either. "I like that name."

That told me exactly nothing. "Are you doing ok?"

"Yeah." This time he did roll over and grin at me. "I'm ok. It's just kind of..." He trailed off and shrugged.

"Overwhelming?"

"Yeah. Good overwhelming, though, not bad." He sat up and stretched. "Also, sticky."

Finn's usually at his most humorous when he doesn't intend to be funny at all, and the grossed out expression on his face made me laugh. He rolled out of bed and stripped, throwing the soiled bottoms in the hamper. Even though he was no longer hard, I still had to sneak a peek.

Sadly, he did have to put a fresh pair on before he would climb back into bed with me. Once he had, he blushed again and ducked his head. "So...uh...that was kind of cool, right? It was good for you and you had fun?"

"It was wonderful for me. Perfect." I rubbed his shoulder. "You couldn't have been any better."

He visibly relaxed. "Good. Because I've never done it all the way like that before. Well, except when I'm jerking myself off. But never all the way with another person."

I didn't want to bring Joseph into this, but Finn so seldom gave me an opening like this that I knew he wanted me to ask. "Never with Joseph?"

"Uh-uh. Sometime it would start out that way, but he always fucked me or made me suck him off before it was over. This was different."

I felt obscenely pleased about that. Yes, Finn had been with other people, some by choice and some not, but there was still something, no matter how small, that we had done for the first time together. As I had the thought, Finn poked at my shoulder. "I'm glad that I got to do that with you. I don't have any other firsts to give you, but I can give you that."

Immediately, I felt guilty for having the exact same thought. "All you have to give me is yourself. If you do that voluntarily, nothing else matters."

He nodded, but it was an unsure one. In Finn's mind, he was damaged goods with nothing to offer. I was the one making all the sacrifices to be with him. I wanted to reassure him again, but now wasn't the time. Finn needs time to think things over, and pushing him never worked.

So I wasn't surprised when he changed the subject. "Are you mad at me because of what I said up on the stand?"

What had he said on the stand? I mentally reran everything he had said, trying to figure out what the upsetting part could have been. There was nothing. "What do you mean?"

"Well, because I lied to you. Well, not_ lied_ lied, but I didn't tell you all the truth about everything. What really happened was a lot worse then what I told you." His brow furrowed with worry. "Are you mad about that?"

Hearing him describe he abuses the Wrights have visited on him had been like having my heart ripped out. I had thought that it couldn't get much worse then what he had told me in private, but once he was on the stand and under oath, the real truth had come out, and it had been much more terrible then I was expecting. "No, I'm not mad. It makes me sad, but not angry."

"Good. As long as you're not mad, I can put up with the rest of the bullshit. Our family has to stick together."

We really were a family now. Not a traditional one, but a family none the less. "We will."

"Are you going to be there when I get back on the stand? You'll be in the same place with Burt and Mom?"

Again with the reassurance. "Yes."

"Good." He gave a huge yawn. "What are we having for dinner?"

He had already eaten a huge lunch and at least one tray of cookies. Yet he never really seemed to gain weight. If I could figure out Finn Hudson's secret, I would be a millionaire before I was 25. "Chicken with herbs, bread, and a veggie platter. Fruit and yogurt for dessert."

"Awesome." His head cocked and he stared at me for a minute. "What we did a few minutes ago? That was awesome, too. I knew that it would be different with you."

It wasn't a declaration of love, but it was close. Closer then I thought I would get this time last year, or even last month. "I'm glad."

"Oh, and we can do it again really soon. Not right now, because I'm tired and it's almost time to eat, but maybe after dinner. Or tomorrow. Soon, I promise." He squinted. "Did that sound kind of stupid? Because I wanted it to be all romantic and sexy."

It had been a little of both, but I was alright with that. "It was very romantic. You're quite the gentleman when you put your mind to it. Now why don't you try and take a quick nap? Dinner isn't for an hour and I'll set the table for you."

Even though he's not waking up at night very often, Finn was restless last night, and I couldn't even imagine how many miles he had swum today over at Rachel's. His eyes looked droopy and shadowed, and he snuggled down without a fight. I rubbed his back for a few minutes, and his eyes closed. Hopefully this would help a bit.

I had promised to do his assigned chore of setting the table, but I didn't want to leave him. Even though I slept with him almost every night, this was different and special because of what we had just done. I leaned down to whisper in his ear. "I love you, Finn. I know that you don't love me back, at least not yet, but you will. And I'm willing to wait until you do."

The corners of his mouth quirked up, I felt my face get hot. "Finn, are you awake?"

"Yep." One eye cracked open and studied me. "Why are you embarrassed? I know that you love me. It's a good thing."

"I...that doesn't scare you?" That wasn't what I wanted to ask, but I couldn't put into words what I did want to say.

"Uh-uh. It would be a pretty stupid relationship between us if we didn't love each other, wouldn't it?"

Again, so close to him telling me that he loved me back. "I guess it would. Now go to sleep this time before standing up and leaving the basement. What had just happened hadn't changed anything in the larger world. Finn was still going to have to get up on the stand, where he was going to get ripped to pieces by the defense. We were no closer to a conviction then we had been this morning. Finn had yet to go to school, where the student body was going to be far crueler then the lawyers ever dreamed of being. In the big picture, we had done nothing.

But when it came to the relationship between Finn and I? This was _everything_.


	50. Chapter 50

**It takes courage to live through suffering and it takes honesty to observe it- C.S Lewis**

To my great surprise, Finn seemed to be holding things together this morning. He had slept soundly last night, and was happily eating the omelet that Dad had made him this morning. He was still in his pajamas, shorts and a wrinkled T-shirt, and he looked like he could have been just about anyone, enjoying his breakfast during a normal day off from school.

I wrapped my arms around him and kissed his cheek. "Are you ready for this, Cowboy?"

"I'm ready." As hard as I tried, I couldn't detect any lie in his voice. "I mean, it's going to happen whether I like it or not, so I might as well just be ready. I'm going to go up there, and tell the truth, and fuck them if they don't believe me."

No one called him on his language, so I did it. We had been nervous about doing anything that might make him quit speaking again for so long that he had become rather complacent about foul words. "Finn, you know I hate that word. Use something different."

He gave his eyes a friendly roll. "Fine. I'm going to go up there and tell the truth, and if they don't believe me, they can get sexually penetrated with a pointy object. How's that?"

"Now you're just being a jerk." I kissed him again to cover up the fact that I really wanted to laugh.

"But I'm funny." His sideways smirk told me I wasn't being as sneaky as I thought I was.

"Finn, eat your breakfast. Kurt, what do you want to eat?" Dad tossed the comic section of the paper over so Finn could read it.

I shot Dad a dirty look, which he pretended not to see. This had nothing to do with breakfast. No matter what he claimed, Dad just didn't like seeing me kiss Finn, or acknowledge that there was something between us. He would rather pretend that we were brothers, and that we slept in our own beds at night.

Most of the time I tried to look at it in a positive light. Daddies never like to think that their kids are growing up and have relationships of their own. It wasn't Finn personally, it was just that Finn represented the first steps of me moving on and having an adult life. It was a hard pill for a parent to swallow.

Sometimes, though, it was really hard to see it that way. I felt like if Finn were a girl, it would be different. Then he wouldn't mind seeing us kiss, or be affectionate with each other. Even though he had never said anything, I could help but feel like, deep down, he was disgusted with what he saw.

It ate at me, but I couldn't exactly make an accusation. I had nothing to back it up with, and it was a terrible thing to assume. Usually, I told myself that I was just being paranoid, and that Dad was doing nothing out of the ordinary. Most of the time, I even believed it myself.

What made me sometimes think different was Finn. No, he hadn't said anything about it, either, but sometimes I would see a look in his eyes before he kissed me that was worrisome. If Dad was in the room, Finn would cut his eyes quickly in that direction before he would make a move. I couldn't tell if the rapid movement was him asking for permission, or if it was a defiant 'I'll kiss your son whether you like it or not' thing, but it was quite clear that Finn acted differently when Dad was around then when he wasn't. Finn was intuitive before any of this happened, but now he can read the slightest movement or gesture. Maybe he saw something in Dad's reactions that I didn't always.

_Or maybe he's still unsure of where he stands with your father. Is he his son? His son's boyfriend? His girlfriend's child? His stepson? The kid that lives here until he turns 18? You know where you stand with Carole, but Finn's uncertain about his place in the house._

There was more then a little truth in that. While Finn had been away (I always thought of if like that, as if he had just taken a semester abroad or something. The word 'kidnapped' was forbidden, even in my mind) the rest of us had bonded in a way that made us a confused, broken, family, instead of just three people that lived in the same house. It wasn't perfect, and couldn't be until Finn came home, but at least we were familiar with each others habits and preferences.

Finn had none of that. When he came home, we were already a unit, and he was the outsider. He would always have a special relationship with Carole, since he was her son, and now he and I had something special as well. But Dad was the bad guy. Dad took Carole away and made Finn move. Dad was his boss at the garage. Dad looked a little like Joseph. And until Finn and Dad could bond as two people, we didn't have a hope of being a family.

We had been gentle with him so far, maybe too gentle. But there was always some reason not to push him. Wait until Finn settles in. Wait until Finn's talking. Wait until Joseph and Lily are arrested. Wait until the trial. Wait until….wait until what? There had to come a time to push things, and we were rapidly approaching it. I was just a little nervous about what Finn's reaction would be when that happened.

"Just toast is fine."

"You should eat more then that." Finn gulped the last of his milk. "At least put some cinnamon and sugar on it. Plain toast is for when you're sick."

Plain toast was a perfectly acceptable breakfast, and didn't cause the blood sugar spikes that his proposed breakfast did. But giving into him was simple, and I didn't want to cause him any stress before he got back on the stand. "Cinnamon and sugar, please. Finn, your suit is hanging up in the bathroom." He started to speak, and I held up a hand to cut him off. "And before you ask, the answer is no. You can not wear that gross South Park tie to court. Your choices are red or dark blue, period."

I don't think that Finn actually wants to wear the tie. It's just something for him to focus on, so his mind doesn't fixate on what's actually happening. "Dark blue. But you still need to tie it for me."

That wasn't unexpected, considering had trouble tying his shoes as well. "Bring it up when you're ready."

"Ok." He bounced off, crashing down the stairs like a herd of elephants. The door wasn't closed, so we could all hear him slam into and possibly break something. Carole laughed a little. "When he signed up for Glee last year, I had such high hopes that he would learn some grace."

"Dancing isn't his strong suit." He was much improved from last year, though. It's just that there's a lot of Finn, and he has trouble controlling all of himself at once. He seems to either be able to concentrate on his top half or his bottom half, not both at once. I'm hoping that since he seemed to have quit getting taller (at least I hope he isn't growing any more, 6'3 was more then enough for any one person) that he'll settle into his body and not be so clumsy all the time.

I released a slow breath. I was terrified for today, but I was even more terrified to let Finn see that I was afraid. If we could fake it well enough as his family, then maybe he would believe that things were going to be alright.

Because I know what false bravado looks like, and, let me tell you, Finn was as fake as Rachel Berry's tan. I don't know if he's putting on a show to try and fool us, or if he was just getting into brave mode early.

I hoped that he could hold the illusion up, no matter what the defense attorney threw at him. Finn had been strong on the stand before, and he had the fact that he was telling the truth on his side, but it was the attorney's job to pick on the smallest inconsistencies in what Finn said and use them to tear him to pieces.

Even though I wasn't going to be the one of the stand today, I made sure to dress nicely. There's no excuse for not looking one's best. Plus, Finn liked me in this sweater, and had told me so more then once. I wanted to give him something nice to look at.

I was still doing my hair when Finn poked at my shoulder. "Tie, please."

"Ok. Give me a minute." I finished quickly and had him lean down so I could fix his tie. It brought me back to that day in his mother's basement, when we had looked through his father's old stuff to find something for him to wear to Quinn's house. It was hard to believe, but that had been almost a year ago. Definitely before Christmas. It was amazing that something that had seemed so important at the time could have happened so long ago. "Are you ready for this?"

"Yeah. I can do this." His smile was sweet and natural, and I wondered if he was even fooling himself this time. "I'm right and I know it."

"You_ are_ right. No matter what happens, I believe you, and our parents believe you. Everyone in Glee believes you. Mr. Shue believes you. Everyone who matters believes you." I did my best to be reassuring, remind him of all the people he had in his life that cared about him.

But Finn saw right through it. I might recognize false bravado in an instant, but he can too. "But those aren't the people who matter. I mean, they do, but they don't. Right now, the people who matter are the jury, and that's it. Even if everyone else believes me, if they don't, no one does. Joseph and Lily go home, and Puck's still dead."

Puck would be dead whether the Wrights are convinced or not. Finn's not stupid, and he knows that. But I think there's a part of him that feels like, if he does everything he needs to, and he's believable on the stand, then, somehow, Puck gets to come home. It's not logical, but hope never is. "I'm sorry, Finn."

He shrugged. "Not your fault. You did your part when you were on the stand, now I have to do my part."

I had no reply for that, so I just reached out and took his hand. His fingers curled around mine, squeezing tightly. That tension, more then anything, told me that he wasn't as unaffected as he appeared.

But he held strong in the car, and walked away from us with confidence. Dad nodded at his retreating form. "He's going to be fine."

Whether he would or he wouldn't, it was all up to Finn now. We found the same seats, so he could search us out in the crowd. We had been running a little late today, so we waited less then fifteen minutes before things started and Finn was called back to the stand.

The defense attorney swore him in, and repeated the questions about his name and age. Finn stuttered nervously, which he hadn't done the last time. The attorney noticed. "You seem nervous today, Finn."

I had never seen him so pale, but Finn nodded gamely. "I am."

"How come?" The words were gentle, as if it they came from actual concern rather then an attempt to lay a trap.

"Because you're on _their_ side, and your job is to try and make me look bad. I don't want to say the wrong thing." His one shoulder twitched slightly, and I knew that he was clenching his hands under the table.

He had been reminded over and over that just because he was under oath to tell the truth, it didn't mean that he had to blurt out every thought that came into his head. I had to give him a pass on that one. It was easy to talk about when you were at home, but things are different on the stand. It's hard to focus on anything except not panicking or throwing up.

"Finn, that's not true. My job isn't to be any anyone's side. My job is to ensure that the truth is told, and that everyone gets a fair trial."

I would have give anything to have had a camera right then, just to capture the 'You have to be fucking kidding me' look on Finn's face. But he managed not to blurt out what he had to be thinking. "Ok. Sorry."

"Now, Finn, I know that you started with moving in with the Hummel family the last time you were on the stand, but I want to go back a little further then that, if it's alright with you."

It didn't matter whether or not it was alright with Finn. He would have to answer the questions, because he was under oath and they were being asked of him. It was so incredibly unfair, but it was what it was.

"Sure, I guess. Where do you want me to start?" Finn was already getting nervous. There was an angle, because there was always an angle, but he couldn't figure out what it was.

"Start with your mother and Burt Hummel's relationship? Start with how they met."

"Um, ok. My real Dad is dead, and so is Kurt's real Mom. Kurt's Burt's son, if you didn't remember that. He and I are the same age, so we go to the same school. Mom and Burt met on parent-teacher night."

"Were you there at the time?"

"No, I stayed home." He was looking confused, as if he had no idea where this was going.

"Was Kurt?"

"I don't know. I told you, I wasn't there." A furrow had appeared between his brows making him look innocent and more puzzled then ever.

I knew that he wasn't. More then one person out in the courtroom had snickered at Finn's exaggerated innocence, just like he had intended. Finn hated this man passionately, and would do everything in his power to make things difficult without actually being flat out rude.

"What did your mother tell you afterwards?" He was setting up each domino so carefully, so that he could send them all sprawling in the end.

"That she had met Kurt's father, and that he seemed like a nice man. He fixed the weird noise her car was making, and she offered to make him dinner as payment. She didn't make it sound like a date or anything, but she gave me and Puck some money and told us go to the movies. So I knew that it really was a date, even though she pretended that it wasn't."

"How did that make you feel?"

He shrugged. "Kind of whatever. She'd been on dates before. The only thing that was kind of weird about it was that I was in Glee club with Kurt. Other then that, her going on dates was just something that happened. The guys never stuck around, or she dumped them."

"But Burt didn't go away, did he?"

Resentment colored Finn's voice. "No. After a few weeks, she didn't even pretend that they weren't dating. She wanted Kurt and me to come along, like we were a real family and everything. It was going too fast."

"Did you tell her that?"

"I tried, but she wasn't really listening. She was kind of stupid in love, just like I get when I'm with someone new." He looked uncomfortable saying those things about his Mom, even though they were true.

"Tell me what happened when you and your mother moved in with Kurt and Burt. I want to remind you that you are under oath."

The spark of anger that crossed Finn's face was obvious. "Mom and Burt just decided that it was time for us to move in together. Their house, not ours and not a new one. They didn't ask me or anything. I think they asked Kurt, but I'm not sure."

"How did they tell you about the move?"

His eyes flashed again. "Kurt set up a welcome home party, and I had no idea what was going on. But I had to be nice and not start screaming, because we were guests in his house and I didn't want to be rude. I guess I could have, though, because it was my house, too. I just didn't know it yet."

"They had you move in on the same day?" His concern was getting faker by the second, and I was worried that Finn wouldn't pick up on it until it was too late.

"No, it was a few days later. The party was on a Tuesday after Glee, and we moved in that weekend, so it was…" He counted quickly on his fingers. "Four days later."

"Did you have your own room?"

"No." His head shook slightly. "Kurt and I had to share. We still share. But it's the whole basement, so there's plenty of room for both of us."

He had definitely clued in to the fact that he was being set up, and was trying to soften the blow that he knew was coming. But he couldn't stop what was happening. It was like watching a slow motion train wreck.

"What was that like?"

"It sucked. I've never, ever, had to share a room with anyone and I didn't know how. The room's big, but Kurt was used to having all of it to himself, so his crap was spread out everywhere. He went to bed too early for me, and bitched because I would wake him up coming downstairs when I wanted to sleep. But he got up earlier then me, and would wake me up by doing his normal morning stuff. He didn't like it when I practiced my drum set in our bedroom. I brought food downstairs and ate it, and he thought that was disgusting and unsanitary. He hogged the bathroom in the morning, and I either didn't get a shower, or I had to go to school with wet hair. I like lying on my bed and having a quiet place to do my homework, and he would be downstairs singing or dancing around. Everything he did bothered me, and I think everything I did bothered him. He felt pushed out of his own room, and I felt like a kid sleeping over at someone else's house, instead of living at my own. Yeah, it's kind of cool for one night, but then it isn't. You don't really know the rules in the house, and you miss your own bed and your own life. But it was my life, now."

It was the most honest assessment of our living situation that had come out of either of our mouths. Finn didn't put all of the blame on me, nor did he take it on himself. What he had described was an accurate account of two somewhat spoiled (Ok, in my case _very_ spoiled) teenage boys who having their lives turned upside down. Neither one of us had acted admirably.

"Did you tell your mother any of this?"

"Yeah." Finn nodded. "I told her that I wanted to go home, and that I didn't want to share a room with Kurt."

I snuck a glance over at Carole, whose eyes were brimming with tears. I knew that she blamed herself for what had happened, and for not listening to Finn's quiet desperation.

"Did she take you home?"

"No."

"Did she get you your own room?"

"No. There wasn't any room for me to go to." The anger had faded from his face, leaving a weary sadness behind. "I was stuck."

"What _did_ she do?"

"She talked to Burt, and he told her that we could put up an addition on the house, so I could have my own space. But it would take a while, and so Kurt and I could share for right then. They talked about getting a bigger house, too, but that cost a lot of money." His voice was pleading, trying hard to make us understand that we had all done the best we could in an unfamiliar situation. "The addition was going to be a project for Burt and Kurt and me all to do together."

The lawyer nodded. "Tell me a little more about Kurt."

Despite the circumstances, he managed a small smile. Finn held his hand up and crossed the middle and pointer finger. "We're like this. I don't have any secrets from him, and I don't think he has any from me. Now it's no big deal to share a room. It's like we've always been a family."

I still had secrets from Finn, the biggest of which was just how much his torment I had orchestrated. _I_ set Carole and Dad up_. I_ coyly hinted that they should start thinking about a more permanent living situation. _ I_ had been very clear that I didn't mind sharing a room. I certainly hadn't intended things to turn as badly as they had, even if I could have never imagined anything like what eventually happened with the Wrights. But I had kept silent about that for so long I couldn't say anything now.

"Finn, I want you to move back. Think about your relationship with Kurt not the way it is now, but how it was when you first moved in together. Tell me about things then."

"Oh." Finn thought for a minute, his teeth nibbling at his lower lip. "There really isn't that much to tell. At the beginning of the school year, I didn't know him at all. I knew his name, but that was it. Even after I first joined Glee, he was really shy around me and barely talked at all. I think it was about...um….October, I think, and he asked me if I could help get him on the football team, since I was the quarterback." He smiled again, eyes distant with the memory. "Except he knew nothing about football, and was really small and skinny and a little uncoordinated. I didn't really get why he wanted it so badly, but I wanted to help him out. I got him on as a kicker, and we actually won a game for once. I guess that was the first time I really noticed Kurt."

He stopped, giving the man a quick, confused look that I read immediately. Do you want me to keep going? Because I don't want to start babbling and accidentally say the wrong thing. If you want to hear more, you're going to have to ask. I nodded even though he wasn't looking anywhere near me. Good job, Finn, keep going.

"Were the two of you closer after that?" He wasn't going to let Finn stop there, because Finn wasn't quite where he wanted him.

"A little bit. We had six boys and six girls in Glee and mostly it was boys with boys and girls with girls, but Kurt was best friends with Mercedes, so they hung out together all the time. But, you know, Rachel was always over on the boys side nagging me about something, so it was still six and six. He talked to me more, but we weren't really close. He always acted kind of scared of me."

That hadn't been by my choice. I was always wanting to talk to and bond with Finn. But I never knew how, and I mostly ended up stuttering and looking stupid when I tried. The fear he saw was real, but it wasn't him I feared so much as the thought that he might look in my eyes and see my feelings for him, and then what would happen? He had been flippant and kind when he thought I was asking him to prom, without any of the disgust I would have expected. But if he thought that it was more then just a passing fancy…well, I had already seen how it worked out when the moved in with us. We both got overly aggressive, and things turned ugly.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I missed another question and the beginning of Finn's answer. "-that was the first time we really talked about anything. I knew that his Dad owned a car garage, but I didn't know that his Mom had died. My Dad's dead, too, so it was something that we had in common and could talk about. He helped me find some nice close to wear over to Quinn's, and even found me a song to sing for them. It didn't end up working out very well, but it was really nice that he at least tried."

It made me feel better that Finn still thought that had been a nice gesture, because it had been. There was no ulterior motive, except the minor one of spending more time with him. I had really wanted to make things better for him, Quinn, and Baby Drizzle.

"We'll talk about both your father and Ms. Fabray in a few minutes. I still want to focus on Kurt. So, the two of you had a very slim and tenuous relationship, am I correct?"

He blinked. "Uh…what's tenuous?"

"Fragile. Things were fragile between you, even before you moved in together."

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. He was still my friend, because we were in Glee together and he was a cool guy, but the sort of friend you mostly hung out with at school."

"But that got worse after you moved in together, for all the reasons you talked about a few minutes ago."

"Uh-huh."

"There's another reason that things were bad between you, though, wasn't there Finn? Something that had less to do with what Kurt was doing, and more to do with what he was, correct?"

My face burned. This lawyer was about to out me in front of the entire courtroom and assembled media. No, it was worse then that. He was about to make _Finn_ out me. Even though that had happened when I was on the stand, too, Finn didn't know that because I had been too embarrassed to talk about it. Why did they keep harping on me and my sexuality? This wasn't fair. I wasn't the one on trial here, so why was I the one who was going to be punished?

_Don't worry, Sweetheart. I'm sure that by the time this is over, Finn's reputation is going to be far more soiled then yours. He's not on trial either, but there's always something to be gained by blaming the victim._

Was the fact that Finn was going to be humiliated as well supposed to make me feel better? Because it didn't. Dad reached over and put his hand on my shoulder in a silent gesture of support. I laid my fingers over his.

Finn gave him an obviously confused look. "I don't understand what you're asking me."

We had made it clear to him that if he was at all uncertain, that it was better for him to ask for clarification of the issues then to guess wrong and potentially answer the wrong thing. He was doing exactly what he should.

"Is Kurt gay?" There was no undertone of exasperation anywhere in his voice.

"Oh. Well, yeah." Clearly, Finn didn't yet understand what this had to do with anything.

Neither did I. Other then some general mudslinging about me and our family, my sexuality had no bearing on this trial.

_Of course it does. _

"Are you gay, Finn?"

"I like girls." While a cute bit of sidestepping, that didn't exactly answer the question, something I was sure the lawyer would pick up on instantly.

A certain gleam in his eyes told me that he had, but, oddly, he chose not to pursue the matter. "How did it make you feel to have to move into a house with, and share a bedroom with, a gay boy who had a crush on you?"

Finn shot me a miserable look, silently asking me to forgive him for what he was about to say. "Not so good."

"Not so good? Did Kurt make any attempt to rape you?"

"No!" Finn's voice was sharp, though not loud. "Kurt would never do that to me."

"Did he touch you in a sexual manner?"

"No."

"Did he flirt with you and make you uncomfortable?" His tone and facial expressions said that he already knew the truth.

"I…" Finn was trapped and he knew it. Making eye contact right now would make it look like the two of us were in cahoots and thus making the story up as we went along. The truth shouldn't require two people to tell it. Still, I closed my eyes and hoped that he would know that he would know that I wanted him to tell the truth, no matter what it might be. "Yeah, he did that."

"What sorts of things did he do?"

Finn's head leaned back for a minute as he thought. "He would get too close to me. If I was sitting at the table, he would stand right behind me. Sometimes he would put his hand on my back or shoulder. And he was always _there_. I know that we shared a house and a bedroom, but there were lots of rooms in the house. If I went downstairs, he followed me. So I would try to sneak back upstairs and sit in the living room, he would make some excuse to come up there, too. He even followed me in the bathroom."

"The bathroom?"

Finn jumped, like he had forgotten that he wasn't alone in the courtroom. Hastily, he tried to backpedal. "I mean, not while I was _using _it or anything. But I had to wear KISS make-up for one of my Glee performances, and I was having trouble getting it off. I totally could have done it, bur he came in all bossy and telling me how to do it. If I had wanted help, I would have asked for it."

I remembered that day, which has the distinction of being the only time that I thought Finn might actually hit me. He's usually such a big klutzy teddy bear, that it had shocked me when he lunged at me so quickly and aggressively. I had trapped him, and I saw in his eyes that he wanted to fight his way out.

But he hadn't. He may have wanted to hurt me, but he had stopped himself before he actually did it. It was only now, though, that I fully recognized the very thin line our family had been walking, and how dangerously close we had been to going over it. Desperate people do desperate things, and Finn had been about as desperate as someone can get.

"Did you tell him to stop?"

"No."

"Why not?" He sounded surprised at Finn's admission, but I didn't believe a single emotion was real, unless it was greed.

"I just…what was I supposed to say? Stop looking at me? Don't go in our bedroom even though it was his first? Don't talk to me? If I accused him of flirting with me, he would say that he wasn't."

That was the truth, even though it was painful to hear. He had accused me of flirting, and I had denied it, even thought we both knew the truth.

"He wasn't doing anything all that bad. Some of it was annoying, but it wasn't exactly dangerous. It was just that he wasn't listening to me, and Mom wasn't, and the guys at school were picking on me and it seemed like a bigger deal then it was."

In trying to justify what had happened, Finn was only giving him more ammunition. "What do you mean the guys at school were picking on you?"

Too late, he realized his mistake and got the deer in the headlights look. "Um…some of the other guys at school were saying stuff about me and Kurt. You know saying that we would be boyfriends now, and that he would make me turn gay. Shit like that." He abruptly flinched. "I mean, stuff like that, sorry."

"It's alright, Finn. I just want you to focus on what you're saying to me, instead of worrying about your language, alright?"

Finn nodded tentatively, and he pushed on. "So what I'm hearing you say is that you were unhappy with your mother, unhappy at school, unhappy in the house you lived with, and unhappy with the person you shared a bedroom with. Is that correct?"

And the trap was sprung. Mr. Samuels had skillfully painted a picture of a teenaged boy who was unhappy in just about every aspect of his life. Who wouldn't believe that he might run away in those circumstances?

"I guess so." He was squirming desperately, trying to figure out a way to get out of this. "It would have gotten better, though. It was just that things were so new."

It was a feeble excuse, and we all knew it. But instead of pressing the point, the lawyer just moved on. "Why don't you tell me about Noah Puckerman?"

That was a tough one, but not unexpected. Finn actually smiled. "Well, first of all, we called him Puck. I don't think I called him Noah since we were little kids. I've known Puck since….God, I don't even know when. Kindergarten, maybe even preschool. We did everything together."

"What sort of things?" With every word that came out of that mans mouth, my stomach clenched a little tighter. Any and everything that Finn said right now would humanize Puck, making him more then just a name and set of autopsy photos. Why was he doing this? Reminding everyone that a 16 year old boy had brutally lost his life for no reason other then he was surplus wasn't exactly the best way to garner sympathy for his clients.

"Boy Scouts when we were little. T-ball. Both of our Mom's work, so the Mom that was off would babysit us. I knew his house as well as I knew mine. We did everything together."

I tried to imagine what it would be like to have someone that I knew inside and out, just like Finn did Puck. Someone that I had a history with going back while over a decade. That was amazing to me in and of itself. Then I tried to imagine what it would be like to go out and grab a burger with him one night, and lose him so suddenly. What were the last words that Finn and Puck spoke to each other before Finn saw Lily on the side of the road? Finn always avoided telling me exactly what they had been, and Puck would never be able to. The line of thought gave me chills, and I rubbed up and down my arms to calm the goose bumps.

"What about when you were older?" His voice was honey-sweet, leading Finn down a path to…where exactly?"

"Baseball instead of T-ball. We were able to go bowling or go to the movies by ourselves. He had his own truck. We played football together. I'm the quarterback. I mean, I _was_ the quarterback. This year Sam is, because I don't want to ever play football and not have Puck to play with. We were in Glee club together last year for the first time. It was great."

"You were best friends."

It wasn't a question, but Finn nodded anyway. "Yes."

"Did the two of you ever fight?"

This time, I recognized where he was going, but was powerless to stop it. Finn nodded slowly. "Well, yeah. People fight, especially when they know each other as well as we did. Plus, Puck could be an asshole sometimes."

"In what ways?" I'm sure that he thought he was making a point, but the one Finn was making was just as strong. When someone dies, there's this natural tendency to make them out to be a saint, as if all of their faults vanished when their lives did. By talking about Puck as he really had been, instead of some idealized image, Finn was letting each juror know that Noah Puckerman was more then that false image. He had been a person, full of his own faults and strengths, and he deserved a chance to grow and change them.

"Everything was about him. He could be a bully, and he could be mean. If someone else had something and he wanted it, he would just take it. Things like that."

"So why hang out with him at all, if he was this terrible person?"

"He wasn't. He could be a jerk sometimes, but then he could do the coolest things. We knew each other's secrets, and we hung out all the time. He was selfish, but he was good inside. He was just taking a little longer to grow up then some people. And now he won't." There was no snark in that last sentence, just sadness.

"Did Puck ever take things that belonged to you?"

"Sure I used to have to count my X-box games after he left, because he would sneak them out of the boxes. But I used to do that same thing to him, so I guess I can't complain."

A few people snickered, and Mr. XXX scowled. "But there's something else of yours that Noah Puckerman stole, isn't there? Let's talk about Quinn Fabray."

We had all known that that was coming. Finn and I had even discussed it a few days ago. But there are some things that you can't ever be fully prepared for. But he held strong. "Quinn was my girlfriend. Then she had sex with Puck and got pregnant. But they both let me thing that I was the one who got her pregnant. It was almost three months before I found out that the baby wasn't mine."

"What happened when you found out?"

Finn cringed. "I punched him."

"You punched him? From what I heard it as a little more then a single punch."

"I guess it was more like five or six punches." He looked down in shame. "I'd never hit him before. I never hit _anyone_ before."

The lawyer ignored the last part of what Finn had said. "So, what I'm hearing is, Puck slept with your girlfriend and then lied about it, and there's a history of violence between the two of you."

Finn's mouth opened and closed, but there was nothing he could say. Yes, Puck had slept with Quinn, and yes, Finn had been violent towards him. It was an incredibly out of character action for Finn, but that didn't matter. The defense attorney's job was to spin what had happened in a way to make Finn look bad, and he was doing a wonderful job. Yes, Finn had only hit Puck once, but that was all it took for him to be portrayed as a violent monster.

So he was going to blame Finn for Puck's murder after all. While the prosecution had to turn everything over to the defense, the reverse wasn't true. We would have no idea what their version of the events that had transpired would be until we were actually in the courtroom.

This had been a pretty masterful move. Puck had not only taken Finn's girlfriend away, but had actually gotten her pregnant. That jealousy was the oldest motive in the book. Finn's clobbering of Puck in the choir room, while totally justified in my opinion, only made things worse.

"Finn? Am I correct in what I just said?" He had to hammer the point home.

"Yeah. I guess you're right."

"Ok. I'm going to move on to the night that March 5 of last year."

The first part of today had been nothing but window dressing, introducing us to everyone involved, establishing that Finn had plenty of motive to both run away from home and hurt Puck. Everything that had been said was the complete truth. From here on out, Mr. Samuels was going to have to make up a story and keep everything believable.

Because, in the end, it was going to come down who the jury believed, and the person that was the most believable was the one who could tell the best story, whether it was true or not.

Finn looked over at me, and I knew that he was aware of that. A causal observer might not see it, but terror lurked in his dilated eyes. He was still doing well, but I knew that this time, the emotional fall out was going to be much bigger then before.

I just hoped that he could hold it together long enough to get off the stand.


	51. Chapter 51

**A/N: I'm sorry for the rather abrupt ending to this one, but the chapter was already 22 pages (usually they're between 12-16) and had no end in sight. So I had to split it into two parts.**

_**A Lawyer is one Skilled in the Circumvention of the Law**_

_**- Ambrose Beirce**_

Kurt POV

Finn has always looked older then me. It's not a hard thing to do, considering I overheard Ms. Pilsbury say one time that I looked like an 11 year old girl. Finn matured early, shooting up until he towered over not only me but most of the school. His face thinned and lost its baby look, and I'm pretty sure he would have no trouble growing a full beard if he needed to. I had overheard Puck comment on more the one occasion that he would stake money that Finn wouldn't get carded at the liquor store.

But right now, he looked heartbreakingly young. He also looked absolutely terrified. But why shouldn't he be? Any sentence out of his mouth could be the one that blew this entire trial for us. Things had changed so rapidly this past year that it was hard to remember that he was only 17 years old. He couldn't vote. He couldn't drink. He couldn't join the armed forces or rent a car. In the eyes of society, and in the eyes of the law, he was still a child.

Yet he was being asked to carry the burden of this trial, and not flinch away. It was an adult's responsibility, being placed on the shoulders of a kid. Even though he looked like a man, the eyes staring at us were those of a traumatized child. I just hoped that the jury could see what I did.

"How had things gone for you that day? Start with school."

"Umm…." Finn had to think about it. "I guess it went ok. I had Glee club, which is like my favorite thing ever. It sounds stupid, but it isn't in real life. I did KISS with the guys."

"Did 'the guys' include Kurt?"

"No. He wanted to do Lady Gaga with the girls. They sang 'Bad Romance' and they did an awesome job. Seriously, they all looked like professionals up there."

It melted my heart a little that Finn had noticed that. "Like I said, the guys and I did KISS, and I think we were good, too."

"You said that some of the other boys at school were picking on you. Were they doing it that day, too?"

Finn nodded slowly. "Yeah. I don't really remember exactly what they said, but I'm sure it was mean, and I'm sure they were calling me gay."

"Whose idea was it for you and Noah to go out that night?" He was jumping around, trying to keep Finn off balance.

Fortunately, Finn wasn't confused at all. "His. My mom had a date with Burt, and she doesn't usually let me go out when she's not home. But I begged her and kind of threw a little tantrum, and she told me that I could go as long as I was home by a certain time and it was just me and Puck."

"Now, you've already told us that you first went by the bowling alley that night. According to Mr. Flannery, the owner, that was about 7:30 in the evening. Does that sound right to you?"

"Mmm-hmmm. That sounds about right." Finn nodded.

"So you would agree that he was the last person to see Puck alive other then yourself."

Finn didn't fall into that trap. "No. The last people to see Puck alive were Lily and Joseph."

Instead of asking for clarification, he moved on, swinging wildly. "Finn, do you know how to shoot a gun?"

"Not a real one." His eyes met mine, pleading for reassurance. I wondered if he was remembering what it had looked like after Puck was shot. He had been mercifully light on the details both times he gave the story, but it had to have been one of, if the not the most, traumatizing parts of what had happened. He breathed out slowly, trying to regain his focus.

"What do you mean by that?" Again, he was leading Finn to say what he wanted, but there was no way out of it.

"Like, I mean, I've played video games where I shot a gun, but I've never even touched one in real life."

"Finn, are you aware that studies have shown that many murderers learn shooting skills on video games? Up to 95% of children who commit murder were known to be playing adult rated first person shooter games."

No, Finn didn't know that, and it didn't matter that he knew it now. What mattered was that the jury knew it. No doubt those were skewed statistics, but if he wanted to paint Finn as a cold blooded killer, he was certainly headed in the right direction.

"No, I didn't know that." Finn's voice was quiet and wounded. He, too, knew where this was going.

"Are there firearms in your house?"

"Yeah. Burt has a gun for hunting, and I think that's it. He keeps it locked in a special cabinet."

"And he wouldn't tell you where the key was?"

"I didn't ask. I don't care about the gun, and I never want to go hunting, so why should I have the key?" Finn looked towards me again, stress written on every part of his body. "I just know it was there because he told me to never touch it, and I would be in trouble if I did. He didn't want there to be any accidents with it."

"The truth was, Finn, that you were still very angry with Puck for stealing your girlfriend and getting her pregnant, weren't you?"

"Uh-uh. I mean, yeah I still was kind of mad about what he did, and it was a really douchy move, but I didn't hate him. Mostly I was just kind of sad."

"See, Finn, that's not what I've been told about you. I've been told that you had repeatedly rebuffed his offers to make up with you."

Finn shrugged. "Well, then someone told you wrong. We weren't 100% made up, but things were better. She was going to give the baby up for adoption, which helped. We could both just kind of forget that the baby existed at all."

"I don't think that that's the truth. I think that you were still angry over the betrayal, and that you invited Noah out that night knowing full well that he wasn't going to be coming back. It's not hard for someone who's determined to find a firearm to do so. No one expected you to be back for several hours, which was plenty of time to get a head start. You lured Noah out where he wouldn't be able to get help, and then you shot him in the head. Once that was done, you walked out to the main road and flagged my clients down, then hitchhiked right out of the state. This was premeditated murder, but not on the part of my clients."

Finn knew that this was a tactic the defense might try. We had talked about it, and prepared for it, and told him over and over that no one would believe it, and that we all knew the truth. Most importantly, Puck knew the truth, and that Finn would never hurt him. So none of this was a surprise to him.

But nothing we had done had come even close to preparing him for hearing the words spoken out loud. Tears welled up in his eyes as he shook his head rapidly. "No. That isn't what happened."

"No? But why not? You had already assaulted him, and threatened to kill him once. Why should we believe that you wouldn't follow through with that threat?"

"Because he was my best friend. What he did sucked, but I'm not going to kill anyone over Quinn Fabray. She's not that awesome." His voice had taken on an edge that told me he could be very easily pushed into hysterics right now. If that happened, it would be all over. The jury would see him as unstable and unpredictable, and the chances of anyone believing him would go right out the window. I tried to catch his eye, but he was locked in place, staring at anyone but me.

"It wasn't a very well thought out plan, but pretty typical for a male teenage killer. An impulsive murder, no attempt to conceal the body, and fleeing town without any money or plan in mind. Nothing about this screams professional job.

Again, he was trying to make it sound like Joseph and Lily couldn't have possibly done it. Would two people who had done this many times before (the jury was supposed to disregard anything about the tapes that had been found, but, come on. Everyone knew that there had been others, and new potential victims were still being identified. I can't see how anyone could pretend that they had never heard that) be so careless as to kill someone in such a sloppy way? They were supposedly professionals, smooth operators.

If either Finn or Puck had been alone that night, there would have been no death, and things would have gone exactly as they had for the other victims. But the minute two boys appeared instead of one, the plan flew out the window, and things got bad fast. So, yeah, I could see how two people who had done this before could be thrown off by a deviation of the normal script.

Abruptly, Finn pulled himself together and gave the man a level stare. "So, was the murder premeditated or impulsive? Because you just accused me of doing it both ways. Either I'm a cold hearted killer or a stupid teenage boy whose temper got the best of him. I can't be both, and I'm telling you right now that I'm not either one of those things."

Good job, Finn. I had never been as proud of him as I was right then. He hadn't freaked out, hadn't screamed, hadn't done anything but quietly point out what was wrong with the arguments presented.

But the lawyer hadn't gotten where he was by being easily thrown of course. "It's not possible for any one person to know what happens in another's mind. All I'm attempting to do is present alternate scenarios for what might have happened that night."

"But you're lying." It was less an accusation, and more a plea. Finn was starting to fall apart up there, and it was way too soon for this to happen. "There are a billion things that could have happened, but the only thing that actually did was they killed my best friend."

"Objection!" 

As much as I hated that word, it was going to be a lifesaver. Finn knew that if an objection was called, he was to look at his lawyer first, and then his family. Last of all, he should look at the judge and wait for his decision. At all times, his mouth should be firmly shut. To my relief, he did exactly what I had hoped for. When his eyes found mine, I signed 'slowly' at him. It was a gesture that was easy to make and not too obvious. He nodded.

The judge pointed his gavel at Finn. "Mr. Hudson, one does not accuse a lawyer of lying on the stand. Just stick to the facts of what happened."

"Ok, sorry." He turned his focus back to what he was doing. "I don't remember what the question was. Could you repeat it please?"

"I think that we should both move on. Whether or not you did it, I think we can both agree that Noah Puckerman ended up shot in the head that night. How tall are you, Finn?"

What a strange question. Finn's bafflement was clear as he softly answered. "6'3. And a half."

"How much do you weigh?"

"245, 250. Something like that. I don't weigh myself very often."

"Big guy." He waited until Finn nodded, looking more confused then ever. "How big would you say Joseph is?"

"Average, I guess. He's shorter then me, and probably weighs a little less. He's stocky."

"And Lily?"

I was starting to see where he was going with this, but I could tell that Finn still didn't. "Small. She's bigger then Quinn or Rachel, but they're both super tiny." His hand rose and fell, as if he were mentally measuring her. "5'4, maybe."

"And, according to you, Joseph stayed in the car, behind the wheel, at all times, correct?"

"Yes."

"So explain to me again how a 5'4 woman in her 30's was able to overpower a 250 pound teenager who is well over six feet tall?" Again, the trap was sprung with shocking accuracy.

Finn was getting used to it, though, and he didn't react as much. "I told you, she had the Taster."

"Right, right. The Tasar. You know, Finn, the Tasar found at the Wright's house didn't have any batteries in it." He waited, but Finn didn't say anything. He just stared with a blank expression. "You do realize that there is no way to tell when the last time a Tasar was discharged, right?"

That was an actual question, so Finn responded. "No. I don't know anything about them, really, except they hurt a lot when you get zapped with one."

"And you say that she used it on the side of your neck?"

"Uh-huh, right here." He pointed at the scars, seeming to forget that no one was close enough to actually see them.

"How many times were you shocked?"

"Once on the neck then, and then twice on the stomach when they were bringing me home." He was completely sure of himself.

"Did the Tasar also leave scars on your stomach?"

"No. There aren't any marks there." Finn's was nervous now, not having any idea where this was going.

The reason there were no scars on his stomach was that the skin was thicker there, and the fat everyone carries there offered some protection from the burns. On his neck, she had hit very thin skin and muscle, which left marks. Simple explanation that the jury was never going to hear.

"Finn, I want you to look at the same picture the prosecution showed earlier. Can you tell me what you see?" He tapped on his laptop, and the picture was put on a large screen for everyone to see.

"Um, that's my neck, and the circled part is the marks the Tasar left." He was still confused and unsure if he was saying the right thing.

"Now I want you to look at another view of the same picture." He pulled a second picture up, this one with more areas circled then the first. "The green circle is the same, and surrounding the marks supposedly left by the Tasar, 1 ¼ inches apart. The three yellow circles are also marks 1 ¼ inches apart. But you claim you were only Tasared one time in the neck. How do you explain that?"

My breath caught, but Finn didn't flinch. "Yeah. Those are freckles." His tone was slightly mocking. "And anyway, they don't look anything like the other ones close up."

And just like that, the balance of power shifted. It was obvious to me, but, more importantly, it was obvious to Finn. Anything that made him feel like he had the power was going to benefit us all in the long run. The lawyer sensed it as well, but nothing in his face betrayed it. He was going to get out of this one, even if he had to bluff it. "Really? Because they were measured quite accurately."

"Yeah, but-"He started to stand up and then sat back down. "Am I allowed to get up and show you? Or do I have to stay sitting?"

Of course that necessitated a brief sidebar and conversation with the judge while tension built. Finn met my eyes again, and I gave him a smile. He didn't smile back. In fact, his eyes had a blank look that reminded me of the way he had looked sitting there on my front porch back in July. A look that was broken and three steps beyond exhaustion. Win or lose today, the fallout at home was going to be terrible.

In the end, Finn was allowed to step off the stand and walk over to the laptop. Interestingly, I noticed that Mr. Samuels deliberately stepped back to keep himself out of Finn's reach. Was it for show, or did he really believe that Finn might be violent?

_Maybe he's just afraid that Finn will see a chance to punch his lights out for all of the lies he's telling. _

I've never thought of myself as a vicious person, but I wouldn't mind seeing that. But I knew that Finn would never do it. He might lash out in anger, but never with the cold calculation that this would require. He also knew that doing so would destroy any credibility he might have. Or maybe the thought had never occurred to him at all.

The mouse pointer jiggled a tiny bit when Finn moved it, letting everyone see how his hands were shaking, but his voice was firm. "Ok, um, so the green circle is the scar from the Tasar, right here." He pointed. "See how it has one bigger dot and one littler dot? That's because the Tasar had one big…uh….." He made a helpless gesture with his hands as he groped for the word. "Stick thing, and one little stick thing. So they left different sized burns." He moved the pointer again. "None of those other ones have the big burn and the little burn."

"I see." He gestured back at the stand. "You can have a seat now, Finn."

I was proud of Finn. He had presented himself clearly and without getting angry. He was believable. Furthermore, he was obviously struggling to with his emotions, which would look good to the jury.

Once he had climbed back up to the stand and was ready again, the questions continued. "Tell me what happened when you were in the car."

"I passed out."

"Passed out or fell asleep, Finn?" He was pressing harder now, determined to make up for lost ground.

"Passed out. I tried not to but I couldn't help it." He didn't sound as sure as he had when he told the story before, and I hoped that no one else picked up on it.

"And you were in the garage at their house when you woke up?"

"No. I never said that. When I woke up, we were still in the car." Finn looked about nervously, but didn't make eye contact.

"Right, you were in the car. Still a long way from their house, right? After all, we know it takes a long time to get cross country."

Finn nodded. 'Yeah. We didn't get there until the next day."

"That's right. So you were in the car with them for approximately 18 hours, would you say? Does that sound right?"

"Uh-uh. It was that day, and all night, and part of the next day, too. More like 30 hours."

"And how many stops would you say the three of you made in that thirty hours? Just and estimate. 10? 15? Think about food, gas, bathroom breaks."

"10 sounds right." His voice was very soft. "We only stopped a few times and I never got out of the car."

"10 times. 10 gas stations, 10 drive thrus. How many people do you think were at those places?"

Finn and I both flinched. This was the weak point in his testimony, and we all knew it. But he had to soldier on and do his best. "Um…a bunch. I'm not really sure; I wasn't allowed to look at them. I had to keep looking at the floor mats in the car. Joseph said to."

"And where was Joseph at this time? Was he still driving?"

"Yeah. He drove the whole time."

"And Lily…where was she?"

"Passenger seat."

"So, if I understand this correctly, you were alone in the backseat while they stayed in the front?" He didn't wait for Finn to answer before he plowed on. "So if you were so afraid of them, why didn't you jump out of the car as soon as they stopped?"

"I couldn't open the door. The baby locks were on. And Lily was leaning over the seat with the Tasar. She pulled the trigger a couple of times so I could see the lightening jump and so I would know that she meant business. I didn't want her to shock me again."

I noticed that when he spoke, he raised his hand to touch his neck where the Tasar had hit it. He didn't seem to realize what he was doing, but, when I looked over; the jury was watching his every move. Did that mean that they believed him?

"What about kicking out a window on the car? Or calling to someone? Anything except just sitting there."

"I panicked." His voice had become so soft that I had trouble hearing it, even with the microphone. "I just kept thinking that this wasn't real, and that it would all be a joke. I thought…." This time his voice caught, and he had to clear his throat a few times before he could continue. "I just kept thinking that we had to be driving in circles, and we would stop at a gas station that I knew eventually, and Puck would pop out laughing. I would be mad, because the Tasar really hurt, but I would forgive him because I always did. I should have fought back, but I just couldn't. I was scared."

"I would think that you would do anything to get yourself out of that situation. Scream, kick, fight. Anything."

It wasn't a question, but Finn responded anyway. "Yeah. I would have thought I would do those things, too."

The silence that followed that statement was so oppressive that I felt my shoulders hunch. Every person in the courtroom had to be wondering the exact same thing that I was. What would I do in that same situation? What would anyone do?

As much as we all wanted to think that we would have fought back and gotten free, chances were that we wouldn't have. If it had been me, I probably would have done the exact same thing Finn had: freeze and pray that it would be over soon. I hadn't fought back against the hockey team, so how could I think that I would fight back against strangers who not only had a gun, but had proven themselves willing to use it? I hoped that the jury was taking all of that into the consideration.

Finn didn't try to defend himself further, which was the right move. His obvious misery made his point better then words could have. I ached to rush to him and fix this, but I couldn't. He was on his own up there.

"Tell me again what happened when you got to the house. After the stops at the gas stations, the stops for food, the stops for bathroom breaks. After you crossed close to a dozen states. After two days of crossing the paths of dozens, if not hundreds, of people, none of whom you asked to help you."

He was laying it on pretty thick, but that was his job. He didn't have to prove that Finn had been there voluntarily. He didn't even have to make them all believe it. All it took was reasonable doubt in the mind of one juror, and we had lost the trial. And if we lost this trial, there was zero hope for the next one.

"Which part? Because I've told this story already." Finn was getting tired and confused at the worst possible time.

"Tell everyone about what happened after you went inside the house."

How kind of him to skip that part where Finn was left in first a sweltering then a freezing garage for hours on end. There really wasn't any way for him to spin that in a way that made it look like anything other then torture.

"He set the alarm behind me and-"

Mr. Samuels cut him off. "He set the alarm? Are we talking about a house alarm?"

"Yeah. With a code, but he didn't let me see what it was."

"Finn, do you know how a house alarm works?" His tone was pleasant and bland, just like when Mr. Shue taught.

"If you open a door or window when the alarm is on, it goes off and everyone knows what you're doing." Finn fiddled with the handkerchief I had given him this morning.

"Mmm-hmmm. Do you know that the alarm going off also contacts the alarm company and the local police department? If you had set it off, you could have gotten help for yourself much sooner."

"That's not true." Finn shook his head. "If you set the alarm off, you have 30 seconds to shut it off before it does anything. Then the alarm company calls you and you have to give them a password. If you don't pick up the phone or you don't know the right word, _then_ they sent the police. So even if I set it off, Joseph could have stopped things before the police came. Then he would have…." He trailed off.

Wisely, Mr. Samuels chose not to pursue the matter. "You seem very knowledgeable about house alarms."

"My stepdad has one on our house now. Well, he's not really my stepdad, I guess, but, yeah. He showed me how it worked."

"So this was something that you've learned since being home, not something you knew at the time?"

Finn nodded again, looking distinctly queasy. "Yeah."

"But you still didn't try the doors or windows. Frankly, Finn, it doesn't sound to me like you tried to get away at all."

"I didn't." Even though his voice was still soft, it felt like it was booming across the courtroom. "There were about a million things I could have done and I didn't do any of them. I asked them to let me go. I begged them to let me go. But, you're right, I didn't fight back physically. That was my only chance to do it, and I couldn't make myself."

Again, Mr. Samuels chose not to push things. By his own admission, Finn hadn't tried very hard to get away from the Wrights. He hadn't even attempted to fight back physically, even though he was bigger, stronger, and supposedly terrified of the people who had murdered his best friend and stolen him. If you went by his words, he had just made the defense's case for them.

But there was more to making a case then just the words being said. Finn's very soul was being laid bare, his trauma clear to anyone with a heart. The shadows that had appeared under his eyes and grown darker over the course of day combined with his slumped shoulders and the nervous way he toyed with the handkerchief I had folded for him. Little tics started to show. He rubbed his eyes and licked his lips, blinking hard as he tried to center himself.

Only once did he look over at Joseph, and the fear in his eyes was broadcast across the courtroom. Even now, with Joseph in chains and with armed guards at the door, Finn didn't trust that he was safe. Maybe he would never fully feel safe again.

The two things were at war with each other, and I had no idea which side would win. This man was skilled, and Finn still just a teenager. He didn't have the maturity or mental strength to do battle against a trained professional.

But he was trying. He was answering each question and veiled accusation honestly, and as strongly as he could. It was a hard battle, and it wasn't over yet, but I was proud of how he fought.

"Keep going, Finn. After the alarm was set, where did Joseph take you?"

"He made me walk in front of him, and he kept touching my back with either the Tasar or the gun. I'm not sure which one it was. He wasn't, like, jabbing me or anything, but he was making sure that I knew it was there."

"Could what you felt have been his hand, Finn? I'm thinking that someone touching another person with just his fingertips to nudge and guide could feel like a gun or the nodes of a Tasar. You must have been very tired at that point."

Finn didn't budge. "No. I know what someone's hand feels like and what something metal feels like. This was metal."

"And he took you to a spare bedroom to get some rest?"

Again, the spin on what had happened was reaching, and it had to be obvious to anyone listening. "No. He took me to a closet and locked me in. Having a bare mattress on the floor doesn't make it a bedroom."

"We're talking about a very small house here, Finn. Maybe that tiny bedroom was all the extra space they had."

"Probably, but so what? I didn't ask to be there. If they had left me at home where I belonged, they wouldn't have had to worry about it. Plus, you don't lock someone in their bedroom, even if it's all you have."

"Are you sure the door was locked? I've seen video taken in the house, and the doorknob seems to move in an odd way, and be sticky to boot. Maybe you were just turning it the wrong way."

Finn shot him a look. "Are you saying that I'm too stupid to figure out how to open a door? Because I promise that I'm not."

"We'll just agree to disagree on that point. That the door couldn't have possibly been stuck, I mean, not about your intelligence." He managed to pull off the comment without sounding snide.

"How can you have an opinion? You weren't there. You haven't even seen the place in real life." He was getting frustrated and I mentally begged him to calm down. Please, Finn. Please. This is riding on you now.

"I don't have to have been there. All my job is is to offer a different point of view on what happened. Remember, there are two sides to every story."

There were more sides then that. The basic facts never changed of what happened never changed. Puck was dead from a gunshot to the head. Finn had been at the Wrights house for four months following Puck's murder, and now he was home. No one was disputing that.

Who had shot Puck, and how Finn had come to be with the Wrights was what was under debate and what this trial was about. One side, Finn's side, was right, and the opposing side was wrong. There was absolutely zero room for debate. Either Joseph had hot Puck, or Finn had. Either Finn had gone with the Wrights willingly, or he hadn't. Yes or no, two choices.

But there were other, more subtle things that had happened. Finn claimed that Lily had threatened him with the Tasar at rest stops. Had she really? Or had he just frozen, and the Tasar story was a lie to make himself feel better about the fact that he could have fought back then and hadn't?

Why Finn hadn't attempted to overpower Joseph at any point? He was bigger, stronger. He was used to slamming people on the football field. He knew how to hit with the least damage to himself. But by all accounts he hadn't tried. Why?

Even after he came home, he hadn't told us Joseph or Lily's names, or where they lived. He didn't describe their car. He didn't do anything.

Finn hadn't done a lot of things that he could have to help himself, but those things didn't matter. As long as he held himself together, there was no way we could lose.

"Yeah, a true side and a lying side."

The judge jumped in and ordered his last remark stricken from the record. "Finn, please just stick to the facts."

"I'm trying." He looked down at the table and took a few deep breaths. "Ok, sorry. What did you ask me?" 

"I didn't. But let's move on. How long do you think you were in that room?"

"Overnight. Joseph came and unlocked the door the next morning." Finn ran his fingers back and forth on the stand in front of him, a sure sign that he was nervous.

"So, would 10 or 11 hours be a fair guess? Pretty much a normal night's sleep."

"I guess. It was dark when he put me in there and light when he took me out. Not afternoon light, and not first thing in the morning light. He asked if he could come in and talk to me, and I said sure. I didn't want him to, but I didn't want to make him mad either."

Mr. Samuels smiled gently. "Well, how was he supposed to know that? If you don't tell him that you want to be left alone, he can't know. He's not a mind reader."

"I don't know." The lawyer had him on the run now, and his uncertainty could ruin this trial for us.

"What did he say to you when he came in?"

"He asked if I had slept ok, and why I didn't have sheets or a pillow or anything. He acted really surprised when I told him that there hadn't been anything. He went and got me some breakfast, but he locked the door after him. That was it for a few days. He would feed me and stuff, but he didn't talk to me."

"So you were getting three meals a day?"

"I don't know. He would say it was breakfast a couple of meals in a row, or give me lunch when it was dark out. But he didn't starve me if that's what you're asking."

"It was. Tell the jury what else he gave you in the first few days. He did other things to make you more comfortable, right?"

Finn gave a weak nod. "He brought me a nightlight so I wouldn't be in the dark any more. The light switch for the closet was on the outside of the door, so before I was either in the dark and I couldn't see, or the light all of the time and I couldn't sleep. Ummm…he did bring blankets and a pillow. He brought a book for me to read, too."

"So what I'm hearing is that you had light, you had warmth, and you even had entertainment. I would hardly describe those conditions as a 'torture chamber.'"

"I never said it was a torture chamber. Who said that? I just said that it was really small and I was locked in." He rubbed his neck again.

Mr. Samuels skipped over that. "So you said that this went on for several days, but you don't know how many. You seem to be fuzzy on a lot of details, Finn."

"No one gave me a clock or calendar." Finn managed to not sound sarcastic when he said it. "I'm doing the best I can."

A good defense lawyer doesn't back down when he knows his witness is faltering. "So when you say that you're doing the best you can, you're admitting that your memory may not be entirely accurate. If even you realize that you might not be giving an accurate portrayal of what happened, how can you possibly expect that someone will convict my clients on your say-so?"

For a brief second Finn froze. His eyes went wide and panicky, and his breathing quickened. Nervously, he looked around, but his eyes swept over mine without any recognition. Whatever he wanted to see, his family wasn't it. He gave his lips a quick lick. "I _know_ what happened. It doesn't matter if I was in there for three days, or five days, or ten days. I was locked in there, and I ate in there, and slept in there, and had to use the bucket as a toilet. That's what makes it a crime, not how long it went on. Right?"

My jaw unclenched. I had to let go and trust Finn, and know that he could do this. But I couldn't. Finn had slipped out of this trap, but who knew how many there were, just waiting to trip him up? I trusted Finn, but I didn't trust this man, who was willing to put two killers back on the street.

"You are both correct and incorrect. While a crime was committed, according to you, the amount of time you spent there is not inconsequential. We're talking about a number of charges here, and knowing when the various alleged offenses occurred is quite important. It would be unfair to charge someone with 10 counts of something when you have no idea if it was that many, wouldn't it be?"

"Yes. But there isn't more then 1 charge here. The charge is kidnapping in the first degree and unlawful imprisonment. Just one of each. I know what the charges are."

Good for him. I had obsessively studied and researched every little thing that the Wrights had been charged with, and gone over everything that Finn had said, trying to match the counts to exactly what had happened. I don't know why, except it seemed important to know. Even though he was frequently unsure of exact dates, he had to have some idea of where the charges were coming form. That sort of trauma isn't something you forget.

It also wasn't something that he cared to relive, and he had been spectacularly unhelpful. And by 'unhelpful', I actually meant 'retreated into bed and refused to get up or look directly at me until I promised to quit talking about it.' Point taken.

"We're all aware of the charges, Finn. Tell everyone what happened when you were allowed to be loose."

"Joseph came and got me. He let me get a soda from the fridge, and then he took me in the living room."

"Was Lily present?"

"Yeah. It was the first time I had seen her since we got there." He nodded as he spoke, as if he was confirming with himself that, yes, this had really happened.

"Tell everyone what she said to you."

"She said 'hi, Finn, do you want to watch some TV?'."

"She knew your name?"

"Yeah." He nodded again, looking down. It made him look unsure and confused, which made him look like a liar as well. "She knew my name."

"Tell me what it was like to see your family on the television, knowing that they had no idea where you were or that you were safe."

By suddenly jumping forward in time, he broke the rhythm of their exchange. It was another trap, and this time Finn stumbled into it. "Miserable. Mom was crying, and so was Kurt. Burt wasn't crying, but he was sad too."

"Why do you think they were crying and upset, Finn?"

"Because I wasn't there. They didn't even know if I was alive or dead. They missed me and wanted me to come home." Even at this distance, I could see the sheen of tears in his eyes.

"So they missed you, even though you admitted that you were previously feeling unloved and unwanted by them?" The voice was the cooing song of a cobra hypnotizing its prey.

"Yeah. I mean, I always knew that Mom loved me. I just…." He shrugged helplessly. "I just thought she loved Burt more for a little while."

"That's a normal feeling. You know, Finn, I'm going to tell you what I think happened. I don't think that you intended for this to go bad. I think that you and Puck went out with every intention of going bowling and coming home. Isn't that right?"

Finn knew that he was in trouble, but he couldn't disagree. "Yeah. I had to be home to watch a movie with Kurt." He glanced over at me and tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace.

"Ok. So, you and Puck went out. You were angry, and you were feeling a little neglected. At some point, you parted ways with Puck-" He saw Finn start to object and held up a hand. "How the two of you parted ways doesn't matter. "As you pointed out earlier, I wasn't there, so I can't tell you how it occurred. I'm not even saying you did something to Puck. Maybe he dropped you off, but you weren't quite ready to go home. It's understandable. So you decided you would play a little trick on everyone. You walked out to the highway and stuck out your thumb. It's easy; lots of people do it every day. After you were gone a few days, maybe your family would appreciate you more."

As painful as those words were to hear, I couldn't quite deny their plausibility. Not to anyone who knew Finn, of course, but that was kind of the point. None of the jurors knew Finn. To them, who he was was nothing more then an amalgam of the traits presented by each side. I could remember the police, who were trained to discover crime, making the same assumption as the beginning of the case.

Finn shook his head weakly, but I could tell that even he knew that he was sinking. The lawyer knew it, too, and plowed on. "So, you figure a few days with some new adults, ones that actually paid attention to you and liked having you around, might make your parents a little more grateful for you. You certainly intended to go home very shortly." His voice slowed down as he skillfully wove the story.

"So you spend a day or two with the Wrights at their house. Then you see your family on TV, begging you to come home. Suddenly, it wasn't fun or a game. You're a nice guy; you never meant to make them suffer like that. But if you came home right then, you would have to admit that you had basically run off on a whim. You would have to tell them that you had made them suffer for selfish reasons, and you didn't want to do that. So you just froze and did nothing. Suddenly it had gone on for so long that you felt trapped and you felt like you couldn't just show up back home. So you made up a little story about how you had been taken and held against your will, to justify having been gone for so long. I'm sure you didn't intend for things to get this out of control. But I want you to think about what you're doing here. You're willing to send an innocent man to jail, or even make him face the death penalty, to save a little face. Is that really what you want?"

With just a few sentences, he had managed to nail Finn right in his soft spot. Finn hated making people miserable, and I had sensed his ambivalence about everything that had happened on more then one occasion. No, he hadn't wanted to go with them, but even he had to admit there had been opportunities for him to bolt and he hadn't taken them. He slowly shook his head. "No. I don't want Joseph to go to jail when he didn't do anything wrong. But he _did_ do something wrong, and I want him to go to jail for that. He did a lot of things that were against the law and he should be punished."

It was a good response, but the point had been made. I glanced over at the jury and tried to figure out if they were looking differently at Finn then they had when the prosecution had been questioning him. Every one of them was riveted by him, but I couldn't tell if they were believing him or not.

Just like last time, when Finn had outfoxed him, Mr. Samuels moved on quickly, not giving anyone time to ingest the response. "Let's talk about what happened afterwards, when you had your first sexual encounter with Joseph." He stopped there, letting Finn put the first bit out there.

"He made me." The words came out too fast, nervous and false sounding.

"How? Did he drag you kicking and screaming into the room and force you down? Did he tie you up?"

"No. He didn't do any of that." This time he spoke more slowly, and I felt my shoulders relax a little. Come on, Finn. Come on.

"How did he get you to go upstairs?"

"Just told me to." The words were mumbled into the desk.

"Told or asked?

"Told. He told me to go upstairs with him so I did. Then he told me to take a shower and get clean, so I did that, too. I hadn't had a shower since I got there, and I was really gross. When I came out, he wanted to talk about sex." His face colored and his lip gave a tiny, almost imperceptible quiver.

"Tell me what you talked about."

My anger flared. There was no reason for this, other then to humiliate Finn and cast doubt on what he was saying. After all, Finn was a teenaged boy, and one who was sexually active. Why wouldn't he want to have sex with someone else?

"He asked if I had had sex before, and who I did it with. Then he asked about blow jobs and if I knew how to give one. I didn't, but he told me that I could figure it out. Then he, uh, told me to suck him off. You know what that means, right?"

I couldn't tell if that was a deliberate dig or not. For some reason, Finn seems to think that no one over the age of 18 knows what oral sex is, despite obvious evidence to the contrary. Mr. Samuels scowled. "Yes, Finn, I know what that means. He wanted you to give him oral sex."

"He said I had to do it." Finn was holding the lawyers eyes, suddenly in charge and unafraid again. His changes in demeanor were making me dizzy, and I could only imagine what they were doing to him.

"So you performing oral sex on him was the price you had to pay for staying with them. An exchange, if you like."

Finn nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. But it wasn't an exchange for me living there. He said that if I didn't do it, he would take Kurt and do it to him instead."

No matter how many times I heard Finn say that, it still tore at my insides. Finn didn't blame me and I certainly didn't wish that it had actually come down to me versus him, but I couldn't help but feel like it was my fault. Maybe Finn would have fought harder if the threat of me being injured wasn't dangling over his head.

"He actually said that? He looked you in the face and he told you that he would hurt your brother?"

"Yeah." Then his forehead wrinkled. "Well, not exactly."

No, Finn. I didn't want him to lie on the stand, but that didn't mean that he had to blurt out everything. A little discretion would be nice.

"Not exactly? Finn, what _exactly_ did he say? Because it's important."

"He said….he said…" Finn paused, trying to remember exactly. "He looked at me and he said….um….he said…..he said that he would let me go if I would go back and lure Kurt out to take my place. I said no when he wanted that. So he said that I should want to keep him safe. I knew that he meant blow him."

"But he didn't actually tell you that you had to do anything, did he? You just assumed that was what he was wanted. Am I right? That he never actually said that you had to offer him oral sex. As far as I can tell, he didn't actually tell you that you had to do anything."

"I'm not stupid. When a guy has his dick out of his pants and in your face, and he's telling you to do things to keep someone else safe, it's pretty obvious what he wants."

"That Joseph Wright wanted you sexually has never been in dispute. He fully admits that you're an attractive young man, and that he and Lily were interested in a relationship with you. What we're trying to figure out is if the relationship was consensual or not."

"Oh. Well, it wasn't, so, you know, can we stop?" He didn't sound very hopeful.

"I'm sorry, Finn, but that's not possible. We have to get through this. Now, I want to step back for a minute, and ask a quick question. At any point, did you speak to either Joseph or Lily about your life in Lima? Your family, your age, anything?"

It seemed off the cuff, but I knew that it wasn't. What he was doing was laying the foundation for Joseph to claim that he had no idea that Finn was as young as he was.

Finn shook his head. "He never asked."

Mr. Samuels nodded and moved on before Finn could figure out what was happening. "I'm not going to go over the details with you again. I know that talking about sexual things makes teenage boys uncomfortable. Let's move on to what happened afterwards"

What he actually meant was that he was uncomfortable, and that the rest of the courtroom would be uncomfortable. Nobody wants to hear about rape and molestation. Every time the words came out of Finn's mouth, they dug deeper and deeper into the souls of everyone in this courtroom. It wasn't exactly something you could get out of your mind.

"Do you mean after we went back downstairs? He told me that I couldn't go home now, because of what he did to me, but that I could stay with him and Lily if I wanted to. He even said they would give me a new name, and it could be whatever I wanted it to."

"He said you could stay if you wanted to? That doesn't sound much like you were forced to be there. It sounds to me more like they were kind enough to open their home to someone who had nowhere else to go."

"But I did." Finn's voice was faint. "I had a home, and I wanted to go back to it. They wouldn't let me."

"Did you ask them to let you go? Was there ever a time where you looked at Joseph or Lily and specifically told them you wanted to go home?"

"No. I knew they weren't going to let me go."

"You didn't even ask them to take you home. Did you think that they would be able to read your mind and know that?"

"But they…." Finn was getting confused, and it showed. "They knew that I wanted to go home."

"Yes, that's what you've claimed. They knew you wanted to go home. Joseph knew that you didn't want to do sexual things with him. They knew that you were unhappy. Only you didn't tell them any of that. It's hard for me to understand what you were expecting here."

Every part of my soul was screaming to jump up and defend my boyfriend. He was getting absolutely hammered up there. His every word was watched and picked apart, the smallest inconsistencies brought back out and thrown in his face. This wasn't right or fair, and I had to protect him from the world.

_Right or fair doesn't matter here. This man has a job, and he's doing it to the best of his ability. There may come a day when you need a defense attorney, and you'll want him to pull out all of the stops. Remember, he doesn't have to prove anything. All it takes is doubt in the mind of one juror, and this man walks. And I have to tell you, Kurt, he's doing a great job of creating that doubt_.

He was doing a great job of making Finn look like a lying idiot, which I guessed was the same thing. The worst part was, there was nothing I could do about it. Like so much else, this fell solely on Finn.

"He knew." Finn was scrambling now, trying to come up with something to make himself believable. "So did Lily. Before we went up there, she patted my back when I walked by her, and she looked at me really sad. Her eyes were saying that she was sorry, even if she didn't say it with her mouth."

"Let's wait to talk about Lily, Finn. I want to keep things going in the order that they happened, so nobody gets confused. Can you do that for me?"

"I guess. I didn't want to pick a new name, so I just let him do it. He picked Jeremy, and he said that I could live with them forever, now. But if anyone asked me, I was supposed to tell them that my name was Jeremy Samuel Wright, and I was their son. I didn't want to, but I was afraid to tell him that and make him mad so I said ok. He went downstairs and told Lily that I was going to stay, and we should have a nice dinner."

"Did they ask you what you wanted for dinner?"

Finn frowned. "Not really. She did ask if I liked steak, and I do, and she asked how I wanted it cooked."

"Finn, something else changed, that night, am I correct? You didn't have your bedroom door closed any longer, right?"

"Right. He cuffed my hands to the radiator instead."

"Finn, I want to remind everyone of your size. 6'3 and 240, does that sound right?"

"Yeah. We talked about this already." Finn knew he was about to be zinged again, but he couldn't do anything to stop it.

"Would you describe yourself as physically strong? You've mentioned that you play several sports."

"I guess. I mean, yeah, I'm pretty strong."

"Then can you see how Joseph may have been a little afraid of you? You're much bigger then he is, and you've already told us that the three of you didn't know much about each other. He could have been afraid for both his and Lily's safety."

Finn gave him an 'are you kidding me?' look. "Do you do that to the people who come to your house?"

"I do not. But I'm not in the habit of picking up strangers on the side of the road, either. I'm not saying that they were right to do what they did to you. Personally, I don't think that they were. But that doesn't mean that they did it with poor intentions."

Nice move. Here he was, acknowledging that his clients weren't perfect. They had made mistakes with Finn. It made him seem nicer, and more like and honest person. Of course he would tell the truth. After all, he had just told it at the expense of his clients.

A strange silence fell, with just Finn and the lawyer looking at each other. Which was appropriate. Ostensibly, this was a battle between truth and untruth, or Finn and the Wrights, but it really wasn't. It was lawyer agasint lawyer, and a lawyer can only do as well as his best witness. When it came right down to it, this was Finn against Mr. Samuels.

My stomach churned as I looked between their faces. Finn's was almost curious, as if he couldn't quite understand what was happening, but really wanted to. He didn't shy away from eye contact, but he didn't look over at the jury, either. His world was narrowed down to just him and his opponent.

Mr. Samuels was a professional, and he knew how to work the room. He made sure to look at the jury, and make them feel like they were a part of everything that had happened. Of course they had been there, and he wanted them to see his version of what had happened.

Finn didn't have the finesse, but he was pushing his version of events with his very heart and soul. The roughness of his narrative was very real, and contrasted with the slickness of what Mr. Samuels was trying to sell.

In other words, this could still go either way. We had the truth on our side, but was it going to be enough?


	52. Chapter 52

_**If a Man Paints a Target on his Chest, He Should Expect That, Sooner or Later, Someone Will Loose an Arrow on Him.**_

_**George R. R. Martin, A Game of the Thrones**_

"Tell me a little more about how things changed after you and Joseph had your first sexual encounter. You were able to quickly earn more freedoms, am I correct?"

Of course he was correct. He wasn't going to ask a question that he didn't already know the answer to.

"Yeah. I still had to wear the cuffs, but he started letting me come out in the living room so I could watch some TV with him and Lily. Sometime I got to pick the show, and sometimes I didn't. When Joseph was home he would let me loose to go use the bathroom if I asked him, but Lily never did. I don't know if she had a key or not."

He was getting confused. When he told the story to me, Finn had never mentioned Joseph uncuffing him for the bathroom. When Mr. Robison had interviewed, I didn't think he had done it either. Having some freedoms had come later on.

_Did it ever occur to you that Finn wasn't telling you the entire truth? I doubt that he was confused about what happened. He doesn't know some things, but those are exact dates, which seem to have been deliberately hidden from him. Just because Finn doesn't like to lie doesn't mean that he's incapable of it. _

Point made. I liked to think that Finn wouldn't lie to me of all people, but I had to remember that our relationship was very new, and he was under an enormous amount of stress from all sides. I just prayed he didn't get caught.

"So you were treated more like a member of the family? Because watching TV together and letting you pick the shows sounds like something a family would do."

"I guess so." Finn was obviously thinking it out while he spoke. "I mean, yeah it kind of was and kind of wasn't. I was still chained up most of the time. When Joseph was at work, I was chained up all of the time. There was a piece of tape right outside the closet, and that was as far as the chain could reach. Lily would stand right on the other side and push my plate at me with a yardstick. It was like they were feeding a really mean dog who might bite."

Judging by the hurt in his voice, I think that was as upsetting and demoralizing to Finn as anything else that had happened. He hates it when people think badly of him, and to know that a woman was afraid of him for no reason other then his size was painful.

"What sorts of things did she feed you?"

"Well, at first it was just things like sandwiches and chips. Stuff you could throw on a plate and be done with. But the longer I stayed there, the nicer she was. She would ask me what I wanted to eat, and she would try to make it, even if it was expensive or hard."

"What about snacks? Did she buy you the snacks that you liked or wanted?" He was leading Finn around again and, just like before, Finn stumbled right into the expertly laid trap.

"She got me Doritos and Coke when I asked for them. Joseph had Pepsi in the house, which was ok, but I like Coke better. So, yeah, she got me special snacks."

"Sounds like Lily was pretty nice to you. Much nicer then I would expect for a woman holding someone prisoner." He wasn't going to ask questions, because he didn't need to. Right now, he was just making sure that the jury picked up on the smallest inconsistencies in Finn's story.

"Yeah, she was nice to me a lot of the time. I never said that she was nasty to me all the time." He was still faltering, but not as badly as he had been before.

"Was Joseph nice to you as well?"

Finn furrowed his brow, thinking hard. "Yes and no. He kept doing sex things to me, even though I didn't like it and he knew it. But when he was home he would let me walk around and check out the house. The alarm was always on, so I knew better then to try and run, but at least I could stretch my legs."

"He helped you work on some home projects, too, isn't that right, Finn?"

"Yeah, but that came later. All of the other stuff came after he raped me."

Breaths were sucked in all over the courtroom, including my own. Never once would I have thought that Finn would just come out and use the R word like that. He always danced around it, even when it was just him and I talking. To be able to say 'rape' in public, especially in a crowded courtroom was an enormous leap forward for him.

_Or just a leap off of a cliff._

That was possible too, but I was going to try and be positive. I tried to catch his eye again, and this time we were able to make contact. He was still tense, but the panicked look was slowly bleeding out of him.

Even the lawyer was thrown off, but he recovered quickly. "I didn't intend to address the alleged rape until a bit later, but we can certainly discuss it now if you would rather. Finn, do you understand what 'alleged' means?"

"Yeah. It means that I'm saying it happened, and you're saying it didn't. Now we're both supposed to try and prove that we're telling the truth." We had all gone over the technical terms until Finn knew them by heart. It was small, but at least it was something we could do to help him out.

"Good. Can you describe what happened that day?"

Finn looked down. "Joseph was really nice to me. Extra, extra nice. He let me keep the handcuffs off all day long, and just walk around and look at stuff. I even got to pick out some R rated movies to watch. He tried to give me beer with lunch, but I only drank one of them."

"Remind me how old you were, Finn?"

"I'm not sure. 16 or 17. There weren't any colanders or anything, so I never knew what day it was. I had my birthday while I was there, but I didn't realize it until I came home. I missed turning 17."

"But you knew that you were less then 21, correct? So it wasn't legal for you to be drinking alcohol, even one beer."

"Yeah, I know. But there were enough illegal things happening that I figured it didn't really matter."

Of course that led to another objection, and much arguing, finishing with Finn being admonished again and the remark stricken from the record. Finn stared blankly at the judge, but his voice was totally agreeable and apologetic. It was also fake, but I don't think that anyone but me would have picked up on that.

"Getting back to the topic at hand, this sounds very typical of someone who is trying to impress a potential lover. Extra treats, more effort. Did you know what he wanted to have sex with you?"

"He didn't come out and say it, but yeah, I knew that that w as what he wanted. It was pretty obvious. I used…I used to do the same thing when I was trying to impress my girlfriend."

Nice one, Finn. Not only had he answered the question, but he had managed to slip in a reference to the girlfriends he had dated and liked. Why would a good-looking teenage boy with a string of girlfriends decide he suddenly wanted an average middle aged man to have sex with?

"Did you tell him you didn't want to?"

"Not right then, but I did when we were up in his bedroom. First I told him that I didn't want to, and that I didn't like boys in that sort of way, but he didn't listen. He said that if I didn't like boys, why was I doing all of that other stuff with him?"

That was a misstep, and it was immediately pounced on. "That seems like a fair question to me. You've already told us that you weren't telling him no when he wanted to do things."

"The fact that I never made the first move is something. Or that he had to push me up the stairs every single time. He never asked me if I wanted to. He just told me that I was going to do it."

"How was he supposed to be able to tell the difference between an inexperienced teenage boy who was a little nervous, and someone who genuinely didn't want to be there?"

"The crying might have been a clue." He didn't even sound sarcastic, just sad.

"Nerves can present in many different ways. But tell me what else the two of you talked about."

"I tried to tell him no again, but he wasn't listening. I said that I wasn't ready and that I felt sick, but he said he had already waited long enough and he wasn't going to wait any more." He looked everywhere but at us. "When we got upstairs I took my clothes off, but I was too scared to get on the bed. So he grabbed my arm and held it really tight."

While he spoke, Finn gestured at his upper arm. "There were bruises there later. Little round ones that looked like his fingers. He didn't yell at me, but he did get really mean. He said that it would either go nice or mean and that he could really hurt me if he wasn't careful. I knew what he meant, so I quit fighting him. I just closed my eyes and pretended that I was somewhere else."

"I know that you're tired, Finn, and you've been really patient with all of this. I just have a few more questions. I want to be 100% clear. Joseph did penetrate you with his penis?"

Finn's face flamed red. "Yeah."

"Did he injure you when he did so? I know you said that there was some pain, but there usually is with anal penetration, at least the first time. Tearing, bruising, bleeding? Any injuries at all?"

"No. I let him do it so he didn't do any of that." He sounded confused, as if he couldn't understand why this wasn't clear already.

"One last thing, Finn. Did you enjoy having sex with Joseph?"

"No! I hated it." Finn's eyes dashed to mine, begging me to get him out of this. Only I couldn't. I knew where this was going, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

"You did. Because I was under the impression that you were sexually aroused by the act. Didn't you get an erection from it?"

His face dropped. No matter how bad things got, I think that Finn thought he might end up escaping this part of the questioning. To have this discussed in front of everyone, especially Carole, was devastating. He nodded weakly.

Of course that wasn't good enough. Mr. Samuels had to push things. "I'm sorry, Finn, but I need a verbal yes or no answer."

"Yes." He said it fast.

"Did you have an orgasm?"

"No."

That may or may not have been a lie, but he didn't push it. "What happened afterwards?"

"I was crying and he left. Lily came up but I wouldn't talk to her either. After a while I decided that Joseph wasn't coming back so I put my clothes back on and went downstairs to my room. I just wanted the day to be over."

"Joseph came to see you then, didn't he? I believe you said that he apologized to you?"

"He said he was sorry if he scared me, because he didn't mean to. Then he gave me half of a baby monitor and said I could call him if I needed anything at night. That was new. Usually he just left me there all night and told me to use the bucket if I had to. He gave me a soda, too, so I wouldn't be thirsty."

"I see. Finn, I'm going to tell you what this sounds like to me. It sounds like you had been willing to do things with Joseph for a while. Oral sex, hand jobs. So he thinks that it's time to move on to actual intercourse. You were nervous, maybe didn't know how to tell him just how uncomfortable you were. So the intercourse happened, and you didn't like it. That's fair. I think that most of us have had the experience of sex not living up to the hype. If you were face down, he might not have realized what was happening right away. Once he did, he tried to comfort you, but you didn't want it. So he let you have some space, then made it up to you with extra treats and privileges. Am I right?"

It sounded so reasonable when he said it that way. No one likes to think of another human being as being a predator, especially not when they looked the way Joseph did. He didn't have crazy eyes or a hump. In fact, he could have been my own father, a resemblance that Finn saw as well. He was a middle aged white man, just lie a million other middle aged white men on this planet. You couldn't tell how disturbed he was just by looking.

"No, you aren't. He made me do the other things with him, and he made me have sex with him. Yeah, he was nice afterwards, but that doesn't change what happened." Finn didn't waver for a second.

"Finn, how many gay people, especially boys do you know of in your high school?"

"Umm….Kurt." He thought about it for a minute and nodded to himself. "Just Kurt for sure. There's probably a lot more, but he's the only one I know of. There's some girls, but I don't want to name names because that's mean."

"Kurt is your stepbrother, right?" He knew our family dynamics, but he had to lead up to the big moment.

"Not really. Mom and Burt aren't married. But they live together, so they might as well be. They'll probably get married as soon as Burt gets around to asking her."

Someone snickered and Dad turned bright red. Even Mr. Samuels smiled. "How do the other kids treat Kurt at school?"

He looked down. "Bad. They pick on him and call him names. Sometimes they mess with his stuff or beat up on him."

"Because he's gay?"

"Because he's gay and because he has a big mouth. He fights back and doesn't let them get him down." He smiled at me, and I had to smile back. So Finn had noticed that I didn't give up. The warm feelings it gave me didn't do much to dispel the sense of dread that was building in my gut. We all saw what was happening, but there was nothing to do about it.

"How do you think they would treat you if they found out you were gay?" There it was, the killing blow.

"I'm not gay. But if I was, they would probably treat me the same. Except maybe more getting my ass kicked, because I'm bigger. I think that sometimes they're afraid that if they get too rough with Kurt they'll kill him."

"So if you were gay in William McKinley High School, do you think it would be smart to hide that fact?"

"Probably." His eyes were serious.

"Lima isn't very big town Wouldn't is make more sense to go out of town or wait until college to come out of the closet? That way there would be a smaller chance of things getting back to people who may judge."

"Sure. That's probably why Kurt's the only one I know of. The other guys just don't want anyone to know."

"Isn't that what you did, Finn? You hitchhiked your way out of Lima and found someone to have those experiences with. If you had come back in a few days, or even a few weeks, it wouldn't have been a huge deal. But it got a little out of control, and you had to scramble to come up with a suitable excuse for what happened. Finn, you know what happened that night, and you know that you were a perfectly willing participant in everything that happened." He kept harping on that alternate version of what had happened, trying to cement it in the minds of the jury.

"I told you that I'm not gay. And I didn't want to be there. So I guess the answer is no for me."

"Let's talk about how little you wanted to be there. Tell me about the first time Joseph took you out of the house."

It was the weakest part of his testimony, and the part that could derail this entire thing. "It was a week or two after what happened. A bunch of days anyway. He said that since I had been so good to him the past few days, that he was going to be good to me, too. By the way, he raped me 4 more times before any of this, so he must not have been feeling too bad about pushing me."

He didn't even pause to let that sink in before he kept going. "He got me up pretty early one day, and made me sit down in the living room with him. Usually he didn't do that, so I was kind of freaked out by it. I thought I had done something wrong and that I was going to be in trouble. He said that he was going to let me go out for a ride with him and Lily, if I could behave myself. He asked if I wanted that and I told him I did."

Finn ran his fingers back and forth on the lectern. "He said he would take me, but I had to follow the rules. No talking, not even to him or Lily unless they asked me to, keep my hands on my knees the whole time. Don't move around at all, and don't try to get anyone's attention. He said that Lily would sit in the backseat with me, and have the Tasar and the gun. If I made anyone look at me, even by accident, he would use the gun on me."

"Was that what he said? That he would shoot you? I want you to try and think about his exact words to you, Finn."

What did it matter? They had threatened Finn's life, after taking the life of his best friend. Did semantics matter? 

_ Of course they do. A play on semantics is always better then an outright lie, though I'm sure he'll have no problem with lying as well. One word can make or break a case, and he knows it._

"He said that if I got anyone's attention, he would kill me." Finn didn't have to think very hard.

"You're sure?" He wanted Finn to be clear, since I'm sure he was going to use it to make his point.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Have you ever said that to someone? What about your brother, Kurt? Have you ever threatened to kill him over something trivial? Not seriously, of course, but just to make a point about how important it was?"

Ouch. How many times had I playfully threatened to kill Mercedes over one of her fashion choices? Of told her that I could gladly kill Quinn or Rachel to get a better shot at Finn? Dozens. But had I ever meant it? No.

"No. I've never threatened to kill Kurt." Finn was playing dumb, but it wasn't going to work this time. "Not even when it was a game."

"What about other people? Your friends at school? Even Noah Puckerman himself?"

He knew better then to lie, especially when his words could be so easily discredited. We had all heard him threaten to kill Puck when the truth about Quinn's pregnancy came out. "I did say that to Puck."

"Would you have actually killed Noah? _Did_ you kill Noah?"

"You know I didn't." For the moment, at least, the fight had gone out of him. He was losing this one and he knew it."

"You're admitting to me that you've threatened someone's life, but not in a serious manner. So why wouldn't you think that Joseph was saying the same thing. That he was telling you that he didn't want you jabbering away in his ear and distracting him from his driving. Didn't you already tell us that he liked to tease and joke around with you?"

"He liked to tease me, but not in a jokey way. He just liked to be mean. But, yeah, I've said that."

"I'm thinking that you were stressed out by what had happened in his bedroom, even though it was a simple miscommunication, so you were overly sensitive and took everything in a negative way. It's understandable, but that doesn't mean you were actually threatened."

Finn shook his head, but he didn't say anything. What was he supposed to say? So Mr. Samuels moved on. "Where did you go when you went out for a ride?"

"Lily put the Tasar-"

He was immediately cut off. "I'm not asking about Lily right now. We know that she was in the car with you and Joseph already. What I'm asking is where you drove to."

"McDonalds. But we drove around for a long time first. I didn't really get to see much when they were driving me in, so it was kind of interesting to see the desert." He squinted. "I don't think I would want to live there, though. Too hot and really flat."

"What did the three of you talk about while you were driving around?"

"I was too scared to even look out the window at first, but Joseph said I could and he wouldn't get mad. He pointed out some of the animals or told me about the plants. We started out in the middle of nowhere, and I saw some really big cactuses. I didn't think that I would ever get to see a huge one, so that was cool. Josephs and Lily talked a little bit about his work and when he would get a vacation next. I hoped that it was never, because I didn't want him at home all the time. Then Joseph said that I could pick somewhere to eat lunch, but that we were going to have to eat in the car, so be smart. I said McDonalds, mostly because I knew that he didn't like it. But he got it for me and supersized everything. Then he drove back to the middle of nowhere so we could all eat."

"Did Joseph go inside the restaurant, or did he use the drive-thru?"

"Drive-thru."

"Did you try and get help from the employee at the window?" He was still gentle.

"No."

"Did you scream or bang on the windows?"

"No."

"Did you try and jump out of the car and make a run for it at the restaurant?"

"No. I had already checked the door and the baby locks were on again."

"Did you try and roll down the window, or even break it?"

"No."

"What _did_ you do?"

"I got my lunch." Finn wasn't attempting to be funny, but I had to giggle, along with several other people in the courtroom. It wasn't funny at all, but we had to do _something_ with the tension that was steadily building up;.

"But you didn't make any efforts to escape from the Wrights, even though you were in the presence of other people. Any one of those people would have helped you if you needed it. At the very least, they would have called 911 and reported what had happened."

"The police aren't faster then a bullet. I really thought that he would kill me if I did anything that looked like I was trying to escape. Or even if he thought that I was trying. I didn't want to die like Puck did."

"So you're telling us that you were taken out in public by people who had kidnapped and tortured you, and you did absolutely nothing? That seems a little far fetched to me."

"It's true." Finn chewed on his lip nervously, trying not to cry. "I didn't think I could get away, so I didn't even try."

"Did you go home after you ate?"

"Yeah. We went right home."

"Something else changed after that, though. Tell us what changed for you after that day."

Finn went totally blank, obviously groping to figure out what he was talking about. Then he relaxed. "Oh. When we got home, he wanted a blow job of course, so I gave him one. But he didn't chain me back up after it happened. He and Lily watched TV, and I read my book. He wanted me to stay in the same room with them, but he let me sit on the floor instead of on the couch with them. When he asked me to stay, he was really nice and didn't just tell me I had to. They both left me alone for the rest of the evening. He chained me up at night for another few days, but that was the last time he chained me during the day. I could walk around and look at all the rooms of the house and even look out the windows. It was much better."

"So the relationship between you and Joseph was evolving all the time, and the trust between you two was growing as time went on."

"He trusted me more, yeah. I hadn't tried to run, and I hadn't tried to hurt him or Lily. So he trusted me, but I still didn't trust him at all. How could I?"

"I'm seeing from your previous testimony that Joseph took you out of the house several times over the next few weeks, correct?" Finn nodded uncertainly, looking over at me for help. I smiled at him, but I didn't know what to say or do. He was on his own. "Always the same thing? Everyone stayed in the car and you got food from a drive-thru?"

"Uh-huh. Oh, I guess sometimes we did pick-up from Olive Garden or Outback so it was a little fancier. Lily always sat in the back with me and held the Tasar on me so she could get me as soon as I tried something. But I didn't get to get out of the car until later."

He held up a hand. "We'll talk about that in just a minute. I want to try and keep things in chronological order here. Were you and Joseph still regularly having sexual relations? How often would you say that was happening?"

Finn winced. "Ummm….the actual sex or just anything to do with his junk?"

He was starting to get snippy. It was understandable, considering what he was being put though, but he needed to keep himself under control. This was make or break and there were no do-overs. "I was just talking about actual intercourse, but we can discuss both."

"Every morning I was supposed to go in their room and give him a wake-up call, which was what he called getting head. Lily would wake me up so I could go up there." He shrugged. "She was married to him, so I think she should have had to do it at least some of the time, but no one asked me. He didn't want to have sex every single day, but he did want to do it most of them." He wasn't looking at me any more. In fact, wasn't looking at anyone any more.

"Did he over offer to give you oral sex or let you top him?"

"No." 

"Did you ever have an orgasm?"

"Yeah." He jutted out his jaw, shooting the man a death glare.

"So he took care to see that it was pleasurable for you as well." He took a quick look at Finn and feigned surprise. "You're shaking your head. Do you not agree with me."

"No. He did it, but not because he really cared about me. I think he knew that what he was doing was wrong, and it made _him_ feel better if he thought I liked it and I was getting off, too. I don't think he really cared about me."

Good job. He had made his point and expressed himself clearly and without drama.

"Did the two of you talk about you feeling that way?"

"No. We never, ever, talked about it at all. He told me what to do and I didn't argue with him. If we were doing something else, like watching TV or fixing up the house, we did that. It was like we were living two different lives."

"So you never told him that you were uncomfortable with the sexual intercourse, but you expected that he would read your mind and know?"

Tears welled up in Finn's eyes. "I was afraid to. I thought that he might kill me if I made him mad or tried to fight."

"But he hadn't done anything to really hurt you, had he? Had he done anything to you that left a mark?"

"No. He made my mouth bleed a little bit, and he gave me some bruises from holding me to tight, but he never punched me or anything like that. But I knew that he would. I'm not stupid."

"How many girls have you had sex with?"

"One, and only one time. Oh, and Lily. So two."

"Let's forget Lily for now. Was the other girl your girlfriend from school?"

"She wasn't my girlfriend, but she was from school. Not really a friend, but we know each other, I guess."

"A casual hook-up, then. Do the two of you regret what having sex?"

"I regret it. I don't know about her." He didn't elaborate.

"I'm going to assume that you've seen this girl since. Have the two of you discussed what happened?"

"No, she kind of hates me now. Not because of the sex thing or anything, just because she kind of hates everyone."

I had to cover my mouth to keep from giggling. It was a pretty accurate description of Santana.

"It seems that you're holding my client to a rather high standard, then, one you weren't even holding yourself to. You didn't bother to figure out if she enjoyed what the two of you did. But you expect that Joseph would not only know that you disliked it, but know it with absolutely no clues."

"I….." Finn was caught off guard. "I, um…" He visibly shook himself. "I didn't want to do it with her again, and she didn't want to do it again, so I didn't think it mattered. If I wanted to do it again, I would have worried more."

It was a good answer. I just didn't know if it was good enough.

"You took her silence on the matter as assent for what was happening and you didn't bother to as her how it was afterwards? Sounds familiar."

"No, that's not true." Finn shook his head. "She was the one who asked me about doing it and she was happy when we did it."

"What about afterwards?"

"She asked me to take her for a hamburger and I did. So that was that." Again, he wasn't attempting to be funny, but a few people laughed. Wanting a snack instead of enjoying the afterglow sounded like Santana to me.

"Do you think she could have been trying to get out of there, like you claim you wanted to with Joseph?"

"I guess." Finn looked confused. "But I don't think so."

"Joseph might not have thought so, either."

"If Santana felt that way, then I was wrong. But if I was wrong, so was Joseph. I didn't do it on purpose, though, and he did."

"That's a matter of opinion. But we can move on if you like. I'd really like to talk about some of these outings that Joseph let you go on. Did Lily come with you every time?"

"She did at first. Then she started staying home."

"She did." He had Finn in his clutches and they both knew it. "When Lily wasn't along, who held the Tasar on you?"

"No one." His voice was thin.

"No one? What kept you from jumping out of the car?"

Finn shot him the classic blank look. "The baby locks on the door."

"What kept you from lunging at Joseph, knocking the drivers side door open and running for it? Most of his attention had to be on the road, so there's no reason you couldn't have done so."

"I don't know. I never even thought about it." He shook his head. "I was scared of him."

"Not scared enough to run. Tell everyone what happened at the gas station."

"He let me get out and get a drink." He was starting to mumble, which was a mistake.

"He let you get out and get a drink? So the two of you walked into the gas station together and bought something?" Finn nodded weakly. "So that was how you got loose, then? You took your chance and locked yourself in the bathroom, or ran behind the counter, or begged the employee or another customer for help, or just took off back across the road and outran him."

"No, I didn't do that." Finn shook his head. "I just got my drink and got back in the car."

"If you were so unhappy, and so afraid that Joseph would hurt or kill you, why didn't you escape at the first opportunity. Let's see, I count…" He actually ticked off on his fingers, a show for the jury. "-five different ways you could have helped yourself, and that's just off the top of my head. I'm sure that you would have been thinking about nothing else, so you should have had dozens of things you could have done. That is, if things were happening the way you claimed they were."

"I'm not lying. Joseph said that he would kill anyone I talked to. He said he had the gun along with him." He was trying so hard to keep himself under control.

"The gun, the gun, the gun. I keep hearing about this gun, but you know what, Finn? No one but you has ever seen this gun. Not anyone who knows my client, not the police who basically tore that house and property to shreds, and not my client himself. Do you know why that is? Because that gun? It doesn't exist. It's a fantasy that you made up to make yourself look better."

"No! That's a lie and you know it." Now he was angry, which was worse then the mumbling. "He had a gun, and he shot Puck with it, and I don't know where it is now, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist. You're a liar and so is he!"

"Objection!" But he was smug about it. He has pushed Finn into flipping out, which was exactly what he had wanted to happen.

There were flurried arguments, until the judge pointed both lawyers back to their places and addressed Finn directly. "Mr. Hudson, do you need a short break to compose yourself? I understand that this is difficult for you, and you've been on the stand for a long time."

"Yeah." Finn rubbed the back of his neck, a sure sign that he was stressed. "That would be good."

"I'm calling a 10 minute recess, during which time I want only Finn to leave the courtroom. I want to remind both sides that Finn is 17 years old, and a juvenile in the eyes of this court. I will not tolerate further badgering of a witness, much less a child. Go on, Finn, someone will help you. Get something to drink and be back in 10 minutes."

Finn nodded and stepped down and out a side door. To a casual observer, he probably looked fine, but I knew better. He was very green and very scared. And I could do nothing for him. We had been explicitly told to stay seated. Finn was on his own.

I clenched my hands together and tried not to think about it. To make the time pass a little faster I busied myself looking around. Most of the jurors were looking over their notes. None of them of them were speaking to each other, but maybe that was some sort of rule? I couldn't tell what any of them were thinking. Had Finn's outburst destroyed any confidence they had in him, or would it actually work in our favor? He had shown them a flash of what he was suffering, and that had to have made an impression.

Carole was clutching her purse so tightly that her knuckles were white. Dad looked sick, probably the same way I looked. I took Carole's purse out of her hands and rummaged until I found a powder compact. A quick movement had it flipped open so I could study the people behind us, specifically the reporters. They were all frantically scribbling notes, no doubt filtering out the best quotes to use for the evening news.

_Well, Finn certainly gave them enough to work with. He's got to get that temper under control._

Yes, he did. The only reason Finn had gotten away with that latest outburst was because we had pulled a sympathetic judge. He was caught between child and adult, and another judge may well have let the questioning continue. But I had to get him through this trial first.

I turned the compact, looking at the rest of the people in the courtroom. True, they were only here as ghoulish spectators so they could get the inside scoop on what had happened, but they were more important then they thought. Once this trial was over, Joseph and Lily would hopefully be in jail, the lawyers would be trying other cases, and the judge would be presiding over some other trial. But these people would still be in Lima. They would be Finn's teachers, and his future bosses, and the people who would check him out in the grocery store. He would have to look at them day in and day out in the town where he had lived his entire life. That was tough, and I don't know if Finn realized it yet. They were mostly talking among themselves, and I had a feeling that everyone in town would know what had happened by dinner tonight.

The door creaked open and Finn stepped back inside. The short break had given him a chance to get himself under control and he looked much stronger and more confidant. He climbed back onto the stand and nodded. "I'm ready to keep going now."

"Alright. The break is over. Mr. Hudson, this is the last break you will get, and I want you to keep in mind that further outbursts will not be tolerated. I will also caution counsel to move on and not badger the witness."

Mr. Samuels waited until Finn was seated to speak again. "Finn, I'm sorry I upset you earlier and I want us to get back on track. There's just one more issue with these little outings that I want to address, and then we don't have to talk about them any more. I understand that you were able to go inside the gas station yourself a few times. Is that correct?"

"Three times." Finn nodded as he spoke. "I got to go in by myself three times."

"What did you do when you were allowed that freedom? When no one was threatening you, or holding a gun on you, or there to grab you if you tried to make a run for it?"

"Nothing. I wanted to ask the man behind the counter for help, but I couldn't. I even opened my mouth to ask him. I just couldn't make any noises come out. He remembered me from when I came in with Joseph and he was really nice and tried to talk to me, but I couldn't even look him in the eyes. I just froze."

"All three times? Three times on three separate days, and you couldn't do it even once? Did you talk to him before, when you came in with Joseph?"

"No. He told me not to talk to anyone." His lip gave a tiny quiver, but the rest of his face was still. "And, yeah, all three times."

"So what I'm seeing is another opportunity for you to escape from the people that you claim kidnapped and abused you, and you did nothing." He held up a hand and started ticking things off on his fingers. "Let's see. You stopped at multiple rest stops, gas stations, and restaurants on the way to New Mexico. You didn't try and get help. You were allowed free run of the Wright's house for a period of at least several weeks. You didn't try to break a window or bolt out the door. You were taken out of the house and allowed to go into a gas station with Joseph. You didn't make a run for it. You were even allowed to go into the gas station all by yourself on _three_ separate occasions, and you didn't even _ask_ someone for help. I'm counting six different opportunities right there, and that doesn't even get _into_ the times that we haven't talked about. Do you see why we're all having a hard time believing your story?" He sounded sympathetic again.

Finn nodded. "Yeah, I can see why it sounds weird. And I really, really, fucked up by not doing anything. But I _couldn't_. I know that it's weird, but I couldn't talk, period. Talking was just like growing wings and flying home. Neither one of them was possible."

He was either employing a brilliant strategy or an incredibly foolish one. By admitting to his mistakes, and agreeing that his story wasn't perfect, he did make himself sound more believable. The only perfect stories are the lies. But would anyone actually hear that? Or would they just hear that Finn was admitting that he could have gotten away and hadn't?

"So nothing prevented your escape months earlier except your own failure to act? Doesn't sound like much of a hurdle to me."

Finn watched him in silence, waiting to see if he was actually expected to reply, or if the lawyer was just making a point. When it became clear that he was expected to say something, he shrugged. "I know that it doesn't sound like that to you. It doesn't sound like that to me right now either. But when it was in the moment, in New Mexico, it was impossible."

"I see. Well, it will be for the jury to decide what was and wasn't possible, now won't it?"

"I guess."

"I guess as well. What I want to talk about right now is the night the police came to the door. Where were you when they arrived?"

"The living room." There was no doubt in Finn's mind on that one. "We were watching a movie, and I was on the floor next to the couch. Joseph and Lily were both on the couch. It scared me when someone knocked, because no one ever came over to their house. Ever. It scared Joseph, too, because he jumped up and yanked me to my feet and drug me over to the closet and locked me inside. He said it was his friends and that he was going to share me with them so I better act right and be nice to them. Then he turned the light off and closed the door."

"And how did you interpret him saying that he would share you with them?"

"That he wanted me to have sex with them. Or let them have sex with me. Whatever they wanted, I was supposed to do."

"That's strange, because that's not what I'm hearing at all. Did Joseph say to you that he expected you to have sex with them? Because it sounds to me like he w as asking you to be polite and a gentleman in front of them. I don't think that wanting a houseguest to have manners is a bad thing."

"It's not, and I _do_ have manners. But that's not what he meant. He always called having sex 'being nice'. So when he told me to be nice to his friends, he meant sex. Period."

"But that didn't happen, did it?"

"No. I sat there forever in the dark, and I finally went to sleep. I didn't wake up until they started fighting about me. The police had been at the door looking for me, and they were really rattled. Joseph said that they couldn't keep me any more, and they started blaming each other for them coming. They said that they had to get rid of me because the police would come back and I couldn't be there when they did. They even talked about killing me right then, but they thought I would fight back. So they said they would do it the next day."

"Did they ever say they would kill you? Think, Finn, did they actually use the words kill, shoot, murder, die, death, anything like that? 'Get rid of' can mean anything, including just taking you home, which, if I recall correctly, is exactly what happened."

Finn looked down and shook his head. "No, I didn't hear them say that. But you could tell by the way he said it that he meant kill me."

"What did you say to them?"

"Nothing. I was pretending to be asleep. After they went to bed, I tried really hard to get loose, and I even made the radiator shake really hard, but I couldn't get loose."

"And the next morning, things were a little different, weren't they? You were all quite busy."

"Joseph was busy doing nasty things with me, yeah. He said that he was playing hooky from work so we could have a fun day, but the only one having fun was him. He just wouldn't leave me alone."

"Was this when he made the video of you?"

"No. The video came after we went out to the desert."

Mr. Samuel's gave a quick smile. Finn was walking right into his hands. "But it was the same day, correct?"

"Yeah." It was a breathy squeak. Like a baby gazelle with a lion bearing down on it, he saw his doom and couldn't stop it.

"I'm going to show a little bit of the video right now."

"Objection!" Our lawyer's face was bright red. "Not only is it pornography, but it is pornography starring a minor child! The only reason for you to show it is to humiliate someone who isn't even on trial!"

The judge agreed. "That video will not be shown, period. This is a court of law, and I am not going to sit here and watch it be broken. Move on."

"Yes, your honor." He didn't sound particularly upset by it, but I'm sure that he didn't expect the video to be shown. He was just trying to pysch Finn out. Most troubling, he was succeeding. Finn was terrified. "I apologize, Finn. I'm going to jump ahead to them taking you out to the desert. You say that you were forced into the car, and Tasered yet again. How many times does that make total?"

"Three." Finn nodded dryly. "Three times."

"Three times total. Remind this court again what it is that you claimed saved your life?"

"When we got out there, there was a Boy Scout Troop camping, and Joseph flipped out. So he started the car back up and started driving around. He and Lily were fighting again. Then Lily said for him to just take me home, as in back to Lima home."

"What did Joseph say when she said that?"

Finn breathed out slowly. "He didn't like it. He said that she was fucking stupid, and that I would tell on them, but he couldn't think of anything better. I think he panicked."

"But he agreed to take you, didn't he? In fact, you guys started back for Lima that night." At Finn's cautious nod, he continued. "And you trusted him? You just told me that you thought he was about to kill you. But you still had faith in him and his words. I'm just not understanding what you mean."

"I _had_ to trust him. Because if he wanted to kill me, he would. I got saved because of those Boy Scouts, not because of anything I did. If he tried again, I would die. So I h ad to believe that he was telling the truth. I could usually tell by that time anyway."

"How was this trip different from the trip to New Mexico?"

"I got to sit in the backseat by myself, and I go to go inside and eat and I didn't have to pee in a bottle. So it was better. We stopped at a truck stop and he had me take a shower and get rid of all my old clothes. He had brand new ones that were still in the bag."

He waited, but no questions were forthcoming. "When we got to Kurt's house, he pulled up, but he didn't open the door. He told me that if I talked to anyone about what happened, he would kill Burt, and rape and kill Mom, and then he would take Kurt and do everything to him that they had done to me and worse. So I did what he told me and counted to 10,000 before I went to the door and knocked. Joseph and Lily were already gone. They were gone as soon as I closed the car door."

"Who was home when you got there, Finn?"

"No one." He toyed with the side of the stand. "Kurt didn't come until the next morning, and Mom and Burt didn't come until the next day, after I was already at the hospital." His voice was hurt, even though it had been no ones fault.

"When Kurt came home, what did he do?"

"Took me to the hospital." He was getting a little confused again, but I wasn't surprised. He barely remembers the hospital, and is fuzzy on the week or two that followed. For the first time in four months, he had been able to fully relax and let someone else be the caretaker. "We both stayed there overnight, and then Mom and Burt came and took us home."

"And did you tell Kurt about everything that had happened, or did you wait until your parents were there? I'm sure that the police were summoned to the hospital and you wanted to get them going in the right direction as soon as possible. But I can see how you would want your mother there. After all, as the court has pointed out several times, you are still a child."

Finn still looked confused. "What was the question?"

"The question is how long it took for you to tell everyone about the Wright's and all the crimes you claim that they committed?"

"A while." Finn was obviously counting back, trying to remember how long it had actually been. 58 days. The number was burned into my brain, but he didn't even remember it. How was that possible?"

"A while? How long is a while? 8 hours? A day? A week? A month? I would think that you would want to get the police going in the right direction right away. Was something wrong?"

"I couldn't talk. Not just about the Wright's but at all. Every time I tried to open my mouth and say something, nothing happened. My throat just closed up and I couldn't even breathe. It was awful. I wanted to so bad, and I couldn't."

"What did you think would happen if you spoke up?" It was the question we had all asked him over and over, and his answer never varied.

It didn't this time either. "I would die." There was no drama or doubt in his voiced. Just the truth.

"What about other ways to communicate? Could you write a note, or type an email, or even use some sign language? I know that you can use it, because I saw you and your "brother" doing it in the hall." He actually used the finger quotes in the air like a teenager.

My blood boiled. There was no reason to emphasize the word brother like that except to make the jury think that there was a sexual relationship between us. There was, but, that had no bearing on this case. He was trying to play on the typical stereotype of a man who would fuck anything. If Finn was with me happily, why wouldn't he be with Joseph as well.

"Why did you say brother like that?" Finn was going for confused innocence instead of anger. "He's not my real brother yet, but we still call each other that. I mean, our parents are going to get married eventually."

Now he had put the lawyer in a bad position. If he pushed the matter, he was badgering again, not to mention revealing his ploy. If he didn't, he undid the scenario he had worked so hard to set up. Finn had outfoxed him, and I hoped knowing that would give him the confidence to finish this out. We were so close to the end.

"I apologize for my assumption, Finn. Blended families can be so confusing." He was taking the high road and backing down. "But my original question stands. Why didn't you communicate in some other way?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. My family kept asking and asking and I was afraid to tell them. I thought that Joseph would do exactly what he threatened to."

"How could he have done that from jail? If you had just given a name, he would be jailed, just like he is now, and you would be out of his reach. But you still did nothing. Were you feeling bad because you know that things didn't happen the way you said they did and you didn't know how to get out of the situation without making everyone mad. Were you guilty?"

"Yeah, but not because I was lying. I know it sounds stupid, but they were nice to me sometimes, especially Lily. If I told and they went to jail it would be all my fault, and I know that they were wrong and they need to be punished but I just…I wanted someone else to have to do the hard parts. Because I hate having to know that I put someone in jail and I have that power over the rest of their lives, even if they deserve it." Tears welled up and ran down his face, but he made no move to wipe them away. "It sucks." His voice broke at the end.

Trust Finn to have sympathy for the devil. Even though I had no mixed feeling at all, and would gladly believe in a hell just so he could burn in it, my heart still broke for his suffering.

"I see. It still strikes me as very strange that you can be so afraid of a man that you can't even speak, even though he's 1500 miles away, and yet you still don't want to be the one to put him in jail. Something just doesn't jive here."

"I know. Sometimes your feeling are really stupid, but they're still there." He wiped his eyes with the handkerchief I had given him. "It's the truth, no matter what."

"What changed that you suddenly decided to talk again?"

"Everyone kept pushing me and pushing me and trying to make me talk. The only one who didn't do it was Kurt. He taught me how to sign and he didn't talk to me all slow like I was stupid because he knew that I wasn't. One night I woke up in the middle of the night, and I knew that I could talk to him, so I did and nothing bad happened. Once I could talk to him, I knew that I could talk to everyone else. And I could."

"Finn, are you currently seeing a therapist?" The question came out of nowhere and with the sole intention of throwing Finn off.

"Yes. I go every week."

"Are you taking any sort of psychiatric medication right now?" He was pulling out his very last stops to make people disbelieve Finn. After all, who would believe someone who was admitting to showing serious emotional issues.

"I take Xanax twice a day. Low dose." He said it calmly and without shame. Good for him.

"I see. So would you describe yourself as mentally stable right now?"

"Yeah. I passed the 10th grade, even though I didn't get to finish it, and I'm getting all A's and B's in the 11th. I'm still doing Glee, and I'm really good at it. I have friends. I'm doing pretty good. I mean, I'm doing pretty _well_." He smiled a little.

"Do you have any mental health diagnosis's?"

"No." He shook his head.

"Are you currently pursuing a diagnosis?"

"No." Wisely he didn't say anything else. The diagnosis would be pursued once everything died down with the trial, and we could get a clearer picture of what Finn's day to day functioning was.

"Finn, have you told me any lies today? I want you to think long and hard before you answer. Remember that your words could be what sends a man to the electric chair. I know that coming out to your family and admitting your mistakes is hard, but I want you to do the right thing."

"I _am_ doing the right thing, and I haven't lied. Everything I've said today has been the truth."

"Do you understand that I have the right to recall you to the stand later in the trial, and that you may have to repeat parts of your testimony? Are you sure that you're going to be able to remember the story you've told?"

"Of course. I know what happened, and that's what I told you." He knew that it was almost over, and all he had to do was hang on a little longer.

"Is there anything else you want to tell us about what happened?"

I'm sure that there are many things that Finn wanted to say, but he didn't. Anything he tried would be twisted around and used against him. He knew it as well, and shook his head. "No. I think we went over everything."

"I'm going to allow you to step down, then. Thank you for your time today, Finn." He stepped backwards to allow Finn to leave the stand.

"You're welcome." It as more a reflexive reply to the thanks he had been given then a reflection of his true feelings. He stepped down and walked out the door, where someone would be waiting to help him.

Only Finn was Finn and he went out the wrong door. He knew to go to the right, but confused his sides again and headed left. Was he going to know what to do? Our lawyer called a brief recess so our family could step out and take Finn home. Mindful of the reporters still watching, I made myself walk slowly until we were through the doors and out of their range. As soon as I was safe, I turned on the speed and raced around the corner to find him. As the smallest and fastest in the family, I stood the best chance of finding him before the wrong person did.

As it turned out, I didn't need to worry. Finn had realized his mistake and, instead of panicking, had remained in place and waited for us. He looked nervous, but still steady. When he saw me, he grinned. "Hey, Kurt."

"Hey yourself. Are you ready to go home?"

He nodded. "Yep. I am really, really, really ready to go home." One arm slung around my shoulders, pressing me against him. He was clearly tired and upset, but seemed stronger then he had after the last time. "Yeah. Really ready to go home."


End file.
